


Lost Boys

by theVelveteenPlatypus



Series: The X-Clan [1]
Category: Monsta X (Band), 걸어 | All in - Monsta X (Music Video)
Genre: Arson, Fan theory, Homophobic Language, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Robbery, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, The Clan Part 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theVelveteenPlatypus/pseuds/theVelveteenPlatypus
Summary: The clans of old left for the mountains many years ago, taking the magic of the Otherworld flowers with them. Now, seven orphans discover that the magic may have never truly left.Based on the music video for The Clan part 1: Lost (All In).





	1. Prologue

Grandfather leaned back in his hospital bed, glad to be alone for a while so that he could think. His doctor had just left, having delivered sobering news. It wasn’t that he was dying, he knew that already, but his time was coming to a close even sooner than he had thought. _A few weeks if we’re lucky_ , she had said. In a way, he was relieved—he was very fortunate to have lived such a long life, made happy by the seven boys he loved as though they were his sons.

He smiled, picturing their faces and how much they had grown while under his care. He would be sad to leave them, of course—he just hoped they would accept his passing. It would take time, but they were strong and he knew that they would learn to thrive as long as they had each other.

He sighed, deciding to ask Shownu to bring all of the boys to visit soon. There was so much they didn’t know—about the clans, the Kiform ritual, Shidae... He knew that he would have to tell them the truth about the Otherworld flowers. He never thought it would be so soon, but even if it was too late for the flowers to save him, maybe they could still save his boys.


	2. Chapter 2

Shownu cinched his bag closed, refusing to dump its contents onto the bed to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. Again. It wasn’t like he was packing for a long trip—he was just bringing some of Grandfather’s things to the hospital and a few presents from the boys, small knick-knacks from the orphanage to remind him of home. Shownu sighed heavily, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. He was trying to be upbeat for Grandfather and the other boys, but it was harder when he was by himself.

“You don’t have to go alone, you know.”

Shownu jumped at the sound of Changkyun’s soft voice, quickly composing himself before turning towards the other boy. Changkyun was standing in the doorway to Shownu’s room, looking very uncomfortable—he obviously saw through Shownu’s composure and seemed to feel guilty for accidentally intruding on a private moment. Shownu smiled as genuinely as he could and patted a spot next to him on the bed, inviting Changkyun to sit with him.

He watched Changkyun carefully cross the room and sit gingerly on the bed, as though he might break something by moving too fast or noisily. Four years his junior, Changkyun was a wallflower. His quiet demeanor and sharp eyes that were always scanning his surroundings betrayed how quickly he had been forced to grow up, never knowing his parents and fending for himself until Jooheon’s family took him in. Shownu remembered when Jooheon and Changkyun first arrived at the orphanage, two scrawny kids with just the clothes on their backs and nowhere else to go after Jooheon lost his parents. They quickly became a part of the orphanage’s ragtag family, but Changkyun still maintained a distance from everyone, refusing to talk about his life before Jooheon found him.

Shownu studied him now, realizing how much Changkyun had grown in the five years they’d known each other, connecting with the other boys in his own quiet way and becoming more sure of himself with every passing year. He hoped that someday Changkyun could finally let himself truly be part of a family. Shownu took a deep, slow breath, speaking quietly so that his voice wouldn’t carry outside of the room.

“I know that you want to see Grandfather, and we can all go soon, once he’s regained some of his strength, but for now it’s best that only I go.” He stared at his hands, cringing at how patronizing he sounded—petulant even, like a kid who didn’t want to share his toys. Glancing up and Changkyun, Shownu was met with a scrutinizing stare, making him feel exposed and vulnerable. Changkyun may have been quiet, but he was not meek. After what felt like an eternity, but what was probably only a few seconds, Changkyun broke the silence.

“I understand how important he is to you, that you have a different relationship with him than we do because you’ve known him for so long.” He spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words, but his voice was steady and strong. “But we need him, too. Without him, I… we would all be lost.”

His eyes were wide and filled with a purpose that made Shownu feel very stupid, trying to protect the boys by keeping them from the one person who had brought them all together in the first place.

“You’re right, Changkyun,” Shownu said, giving the other boy a grateful, if tired, smile. Deciding quickly, he picked up his bag. “Could you go round the other boys up? I’ll be out in ten minutes and we can leave in fifteen if everyone is ready by then.”

Changkyun smiled shyly and ran out of the room to relay the change in plans. Shownu looked down at his pack, all of the presents nestled in the blankets and clothes he had chosen to bring. He decided that each boy could carry their own gifts and give them to Grandfather personally. Shownu smiled to himself just imagining the reunion of the whole family, their togetherness giving Grandfather a piece of home to hold on to until he was well enough to be home again for real.  
He pulled his bag back onto his lap and undid the straps, dumping its contents onto the bed. Again.

 

\---

 

“Grandfather!”

The boys rushed excitedly into the hospital room where Grandfather was propped up on some pillows and smiling broadly. They all converged on the bed with their gifts and Shownu rushed forward, trying to keep them from smothering the man laying there.

“Boys!” Grandfather beamed, “I’m so glad you could all come! I’ve missed you all so much—are you eating? Have you been looking after each other? How are my flowers?”  
He peppered them with questions and the boys gathered around him, their eyes brighter than they had been in days. Shownu stood off to the side, letting the boys drink up Grandfather’s attention—Shownu had been to see Grandfather every day and was glad that the boys could finally come along. He caught Changkyun’s eyes and smiled, nodding in gratitude for the part he played in getting them all here together. The younger boy smiled easily, bolstered by the happy atmosphere.

“Shownu?” Grandfather said, hushing the boys so he could speak. “Could you come sit with us?” His voice was soft but it carried easily and Shownu went to his side, quirking an eyebrow and aware that the boys were all staring at him now.

“Yes, Grandfather?”

“There’s a story I’d like to tell you,” he said, trying to sit up straighter but not quite able to manage it. Shownu quickly helped him into a comfortable position, arranging pillows and pulling a blanket over his shoulders with a practiced ease, and with a grateful smile Grandfather addressed them all.

“I’ve been saving this one for you boys,” he said, his voice almost a rasp. “But you’re old enough now, and it’s time you knew.”

Shownu cocked his head, not sure what the story could be or why he was choosing to share it with them now. He felt a moment of panic—they all knew that Grandfather was sick, and Shownu knew that even now he was putting on a façade for the other boys despite being in extreme pain, but was he getting sicker and not telling them? Shownu frowned, resolving to speak with him privately before they left, and tried to pay attention.

“I’ve told you before that I grew up with the Third Clan and that my family stayed in the city when they left.”

The boys nodded enthusiastically—Grandfather’s elaborate stories about his childhood were favorites of theirs, loving the tales of mischief he had gotten into and the secret magic of the clans. The boys didn’t believe in magic, of course, but the idea of it ran rampant through their childhood storytelling and had become a staple for all stories told ever since.

“But…” Grandfather paused, whether for dramatic effect or by hesitation, Shownu couldn’t tell, “I never told you about Shidae.”

The boys were silent with rapt attention. They had heard Grandfather’s stories hundreds of times, each one so familiar that they could almost recite them from memory, but Shidae was a name they had never heard before.

“Shidae and I were friends growing up, practically inseparable,” Grandfather said wistfully. “He became a shaman’s apprentice when we were still quite young, and even though he could only hint at his studies, we remained close. He accompanied me on many of the adventures I’ve shared with you, but I’m afraid I had to leave him out in my storytelling. Until now.”

“Why?” Kihyun asked, eyes round with curiosity.

Grandfather smiled apologetically. “Well, Kihyun, because to you boys they were just stories. Fantasies to entertain and spark your imagination.”

Kihyun frowned, looking confused but not sure how to admit it, and Grandfather reached down to ruffle his hair. With a sigh, he looked at each of his boys with a pride and love that radiated through the room, but his tone was much more melancholy.

“Everything I’ve told you—about the clans, my time with them, and especially the magic—it’s all real. I haven’t been telling you stories, little ones, but memories.”

Shownu blinked, trying to imagine the stories they grew up with into fact. It just seemed too fantastic, too… magical, he thought to himself. Before any of them could speak, Grandfather rested his chin on his hands and with a familiar sparkle in his eyes, told them the truth he had saved for so long.

“This story is special, but just as real as the others. Years ago, when Shidae and I were just children, we were introduced to the mysterious Kiform ritual that holds the secrets of clan magic. And it all begins with the Otherworld flowers.”

 

\---

 

Shownu herded the boys out of the room, last minute waves and shouted ‘see you soon!’s echoing even after he closed the door on them. Grandfather had told them the truth after all these years—his stories were real. The clans, the magic, all of it. And Shidae, his best childhood friend, living at the base of the mountain just an hour’s walk from here. The boys had been stunned at first, but quickly exploded into cheers and smiles and questions that Grandfather answered as best he could considering how many he was given at once. They had spent twenty minutes being the boisterous kids that Grandfather had wrangled for so many years, but when he had begun looking too drained Shownu wrapped up their visit with a promise that they would be back soon.

Alone in the room except for Grandfather now, the quiet rang in his ears—he shook his head to clear his thoughts, and then went to sit on the edge of the bed with his hands held uncomfortably in his lap.

“Grandfather, are you really okay?” Shownu asked in a very small voice, not looking up from his fidgeting fingers.

After a moment of pause, he heard Grandfather sigh quietly. Rather than answer Shownu’s question, he reached for Shownu’s hands and steadied them with his own.

“I’m old, Shownu,” he said gently. With the hint of a smile in his voice, he added, “Old enough to know something is troubling you.”

Shownu finally looked up to find Grandfather studying him, his face expectant.

“Why now?” Shownu asked, feeling lost. “Why tell us all of this now?”

“I figured it would be better late than never,” he answered honestly. “Shownu, I’m not going to live forever, no matter how much I would like to for you boys. I wanted to tell you all the truth, before…” he shrugged, letting his words fall away.

“I know all of that,” Shownu said, feeling incredibly young and trying to keep a whine out of his voice. “But we still… have time, right?”

Grandfather gave him a small smile, saying softly, “For now, yes. But I won’t lie to you. I’m dying, simply of old age, and I’ve come to terms with it. I’m very lucky to have lived such a full life and to have had the seven of you share so much of it with me.” Grandfather cupped Shownu’s cheek and brushed away a few escaped tears with the worn pad of his thumb. Shownu hadn’t realized he’d been crying, but now it felt that he might dissolve into tears at any moment. He willed himself to pull it together, wanting to cherish every moment of whatever time they had left.

“Grandfather, I’m scared,” he whispered.

“Oh, Shownu. You and the other boys have been the children I’ve always wanted, and while I still think of you as my little ones, you have grown so much. When I’m gone, you will continue to grow. Death is a part of life,” Grandfather said kindly. “We mustn’t be afraid of it.”

Shownu sniffled, but managed a half-smile. Grandfather patted him on the shoulder but stiffened with pain and a grimace flashed across his face that he couldn’t quite hide. Not from Shownu.

“I’ve loved your company, but I need to rest,” Grandfather said reluctantly. “Go ahead back to the house and give my love to the other boys. And Shownu?”

“Yes, Grandfather?”

“Thank you. For bringing them along today.” He smiled with so much love that Shownu’s heart felt like it might burst. “It was exactly what I needed. I love you boys so much, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Shownu said with a small smile.

He stood, wanting to stay but knowing Grandfather needed his rest. At the door, he hesitated. “Grandfather?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Grandfather smiled, “I know, Shownu. I love you too, son.”

Shownu shot one last look over his shoulder and then walked out of the room to go home, feeling like he was leaving a big part of home behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Jooheon slung his arm across Kihyun’s shoulders, giving him what was hopefully a comforting smile. The older boy had been subdued since this morning, when it was confirmed that his knees had become bowed enough to warrant surgery. The surgeon had known Kihyun’s family for years and insisted on handling the procedure pro bono, and Minhyuk had already volunteered to stay at the hospital with Kihyun for the operation and a few days after to help him settle in. It would be minor surgery, needing only two or three weeks of recovery, but it was still sobering news.

Jooheon gave Kihyun’s shoulders another squeeze before letting go then picked up his pace to catch up to Shownu, who had been leading their little caravan through town. Behind him, Changkyun moved to keep pace with Kihyun which made Jooheon smile. They were cute together, even though they weren’t officially together. Yet.

Trailing last, Wonho was walking with Minhyuk and Hyungwon, all of them playfully shoving and swatting at each other. Minhyuk and Hyungwon never held hands outside of the orphanage or showed any other public displays of affection, but it didn’t take a genius to tell that they were crazy about each other. Which made Wonho a third wheel  _ and _ the caboose.

Finally catching up to Shownu, Jooheon clapped him on the shoulder and fell into step with him.

“So, where are we going, fearless leader?”

Shownu looked at him sideways, arching his eyebrow. “Where do we  _ always _ go, Jooheon?”

Jooheon rolled his eyes, “I know, I know—we’re going to the bridge, just like we  _ always _ do.” He smiled mischievously, “but nothing says we can’t take a detour.”

 

\---

Jooheon skipped down the street, pleased with himself. The other boys had all agreed to the detour idea, and seemed in lighter spirits. Even Kihyun had brightened, intrigued by the unexpected adventure. Everyone was walking more or less at the same pace now, effortlessly moving together after so many years of practice. Entering an alleyway, Jooheon reached out his arm, letting his fingers trace along the old brick of the antique shop, the texture rooting Jooheon in this moment that he wished would never end.

As the boys stepped back out onto the open street, Jooheon saw a couple of merchants being harassed by a group of soldiers. The merchants, two older men looking very frantic behind their thick glasses, were scrambling to gather their things while the soldiers pawed through their wares. Jooheon narrowed his eyes and glanced at the others, watching with him. He looked at Shownu who had a stony look on his face, brow knitted in disgust—the military presence in town had grown in the last few weeks, and the new soldiers were even worse than the old ones. Jooheon made eye contact with Shownu, who gave a small nod, and then the group headed towards the soldiers.

Jooheon reached them first, casually walking through the ring of soldiers and quietly urging the merchants to leave. All of the boys had manic glints in their eyes and quickly broke up the soldiers’ formation. Shownu ducked under a soldier’s arm, forming his fingers into the shape of a gun and pretending to shoot him in the chest. Hyungwon plucked a bright blue spray of Otherworld flowers from an overgrown window box, lazily striding up to another soldier and carefully placing it in his vest, patting the pocket and smoothing back the material.

While the other boys wordlessly taunted their respective soldiers, Jooheon sauntered over to the youngest-looking one who had nervously assumed a professional stance, feet planted and gun held against his chest. Jooheon leaned forward, resting his head against the barrel of the soldier’s rifle and giving him a crazed smile. The soldier’s eyes widened, sweat dripping down his face and his hands beginning to shake. Jooheon knew what the soldier was seeing in his eyes, or rather what he wasn’t seeing: fear.

Jooheon stood straight again, flashing the soldier another smile and feeling the familiar Rush of adrenaline wash over him. He wasn’t afraid of guns or anything these soldiers could throw at him because he simply didn’t care. Jooheon knew he was reckless, impulsive—he knew that it would probably get himself killed one day, but he needed the Rush to feel alive.

Turning away from the soldier to join the other boys, he couldn’t help but remember another Jooheon, the one who hid when soldiers just like these ones knocked on his family’s door. He remembered having to watch his parents dragged out of their home for supposedly supporting the rebellion, remembered the two sharp reports of a rifle that changed his life forever.

That Jooheon was gone—he would never hide in fear again.

Jooheon caught up with his friends, his  _ family _ , and jostled his way to the front. Reorienting himself, he pointed down the street that would take them to the bridge and grinned.

“Let’s go, boys.”

 

\---

 

The bridge on the other side of town was originally a main road, but increasingly severe seasonal flooding resulted in a decision to carve a drainage path through the city so that residents’ houses stopped threatening to float away every spring. Rather than cut through the roads, the powers that be simply tunneled underneath them, creating little alcoves that were the perfect size for seven kids plus a whole bunch of chairs and salvaged stuff to sit on. This particular bridge had become a sort of sanctuary for the boys, a place for them to just  _ be _ .

Jooheon took a running start to vault onto the overturned ice box that served as his designated perch, making a whooping sound that echoed off the curved archway. He watched everyone maneuver to their usual spots, finding comfort in such an ordinary tradition. So much was changing in their lives, but this bridge was something they could still hold on to, a constant that Jooheon knew all of them needed.

They sat there for a while in silence. Jooheon thought back to Grandfather at the hospital—he had looked so small tucked under the bed’s thin white sheets, his face smiling despite its sickly pallor. It was hard to imagine that a man who had survived raising seven rowdy boys could ever seem so fragile.

“Do you think Grandfather’s story about the Otherworld flowers is true?” Wonho asked from his spot on the ground. Jooheon looked over to see that he had drawn a picture of the flowers in the dirt and was not staring at it contemplatively.

“Why would Grandfather not have told us by now if it was?” Minhyuk asked. He shifted closer to Hyungwon, probably not even realizing it. “It’s a wildflower, practically a weed, almost as common as dandelions and wild rose.” He continued, sounding like he was more trying to convince himself than anything. “Besides, even if it  _ is _ true, wouldn’t more people know about it?”

“Grandfather said that the clans kept it a secret so that no one who didn’t understand the ritual’s power would abuse it,” Wonho recited. “When the clans moved into the mountains, maybe they took their secrets with them. That would explain why Grandfather is the only one here who knows.”

“That would have been a major liability, though,” Minhyuk argued. “They wouldn’t have taken such a huge risk in letting him stay here.”

“He grew up in the Third Clan, so they had good reason to trust that he’d take their secret to the grave…” Wonho blanched at the expression, immediately regretting his choice of words. Everyone shifted uncomfortably, the reality of their situation slamming back into focus.

“I think that we should try to find Shidae,” Kihyun said, trying to salvage the conversation. Jooheon saw Wonho shoot him a grateful look, his flower drawing hastily erased from the dirt. “He would know all about the Kiform ritual and Grandfather said that he was at the base of the mountain by the old deer path, which is only about an hour’s walk from here—then we’d just have to find the house and…”

“I think I know where the house is.”

Everyone turned towards Changkyun, his face turning bright red from the sudden attention. “I walked out there last month with Grandfather,” he said nervously, keeping his eyes on the dirt where Wonho’s drawing had been. “He wanted to get some berries for us, for our birthday, and needed my help carrying them back.”

Jooheon’s mouth watered, remembering how amazing it had been to wake up and have fresh raspberries and blackberries for breakfast on their birthday. At the orphanage, all seven of them unofficially shared the same birthday, and Grandfather always did something special for them to celebrate. Changkyun continued, his voice growing stronger as he went.

“I didn’t actually see the house, but I remember the clearing we were in when he mentioned it. I bet it’s somewhere near there.”

The boys began talking excitedly, trading theories and peppering Changkyun with questions about the specifics of what he remembered. Jooheon leaned back and let the conversation go on without him, its steady hum soothing.

Looking out past their shaded spot under the bridge, Jooheon saw a group of black clad figures steadily moving their way. He frowned—soldiers didn’t usually patrol the canals, and even though he and his friends weren’t doing anything wrong, he had a bad feeling about them. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly bothered him about this particular patrol, but it was enough to set him on edge.

Jooheon watched the soldiers’ progression carefully, becoming more unsettled as they advanced, until he realized what about them was different from the other patrols he saw practically every day—they were marching, in a formal rhythm and with perfect posture, guns held ready across their chests like the young soldier Jooheon had confronted earlier. They were closer now, enough that he could begin to make out their faces, and he swore when he recognized the man who was leading the patrol. He was older now, but still wore a look of grim disapproval Jooheon had never seen him without. Jooheon began rising to his feet just as the other boys were turning, each one making the connection in quick succession.

Hyungwon was the last to turn towards the smug superior officer standing front and center as the soldiers stopped just short of the bridge’s overhang, his eyes widening in panic and his voice barely a squeak.

“Father!”


	4. Chapter 4

“I see you still keep poor company,” Hyungwon’s father said in place of a greeting. “Just another refusal of my advice, I suppose—though obviously to your disadvantage. Tell me again, Hyungwon, what is it you see in your… _friends_ that has so inspired you to stay?”

Wonho balanced on the balls of his feet. The boys had stood instinctually for either fight or flight but now they simply gaped at the man’s rudeness, frozen and lost for words but none more than Hyungwon, whose face was bright red and obviously fighting back tears. Wonho ground his teeth together but remained mute—just like the other boys. He didn’t want to encourage the general, who would only use their words to hurt Hyungwon even more.

“You always were a rather stupid boy,” Hyungwon’s father continued. “You take after your mother that way, so willowy and weak. All of the men in my family have thrived in times of war, but even as my son you wouldn’t have stood a chance. The military would have eaten a scrap like you alive.” As he spoke, he gathered himself to his tallest height, jutting out his chin with an arrogance Wonho despised. Even though he came only to Hyungwon’s chin, the boy seemed impossibly small with his eyes cast down and thin arms crossed over his chest in defense rather than defiance. Wonho saw Minhyuk squirming uncomfortably as the general continued ruthlessly attacking Hyungwon.

“Of course, I knew you wouldn’t have progressed in my absence, but I thought you at least wouldn’t fall any farther. Clearly I was mistaken.” Given Hyungwon a dramatically disappointed once-over and then focusing his hateful gaze on Minhyuk behind him, the general sneered, “And your boy toy is still here dragging you down into sin—how hopelessly predictable of you.”

Wonho felt a haze of anger descend over the boys, stifling and volatile, and he knew the situation was devolving fast. Ready to spring into action at even the slightest hint of violence, he was shocked when Hyungwon took two bold steps towards his father with his hands fisted at his sides.

“Don’t talk to him like that! To any of them!” The boy’s voice was shrill, shaking with emotion and fear, but he stood tall, towering over the cruel man with a long-burning fire in his eyes. “These are my friends, my _family_ —you were the one who left me behind and they took me in when no one else would. _You_ abandoned _me_ and then you think you can show up and claim to be my father after all this time? The only thing we have in common is the blood running through our veins and even that is enough for me to hate myself. I hate you!”

A sharp _crack_ echoed against the hard stone of the bridge’s arch when Hyungwon’s father solidly backhanded him across the face. The silence that followed rang through Wonho’s brain and he resisted the urge to clap his hands over his ears, knowing it wouldn’t help.

Hyungwon slowly drew himself back up, eyes lowered again but his arms still held firmly by his sides. Wonho was amazed by his friend’s composure, but worried that it wouldn’t hold up for much longer. No matter how much they all wanted to retaliate, the soldiers were still standing at the ready to intervene if the boys decided to fight and Hyungwon’s father didn’t deserve the satisfaction of watching them try.

“I do not claim to be your father,” the general said venomously, his even voice sending shivers down Wonho’s spine. “Nor will I ever again. You have embarrassed me for the last time, Hyungwon.” The general spit on the dirt by Hyungwon’s feet and then, turning sharply on his heel, marched out of the tunnel followed closely by his soldiers.

The boys watched the patrol leave and only when they disappeared from view did Hyungwon collapse, crying out and trembling violently. An alarmed Minhyuk immediately dropped to the ground, pulling the boy half into his lap and rocking him gently while petting his hair soothingly, being careful of the bruises already forming on the left side of his face.

Wonho sank back to the ground and inched as close to the pair as he could while still giving them space. Glancing up, he saw Jooheon standing a few paces away and arguing with Shownu in hushed tones—the boy was making wild hand gestures and obviously struggling to keep quiet while Shownu had his arms crossed with a stern look on his face. Wonho guessed that Shownu was firmly talking Jooheon down from hysteria and was grateful that Shownu was handling the situation because he didn’t think he would have been able to do the same. After a few moments, Jooheon appeared placated enough that Shownu could leave him alone and the older boy walked over, silently sitting next to Wonho and folding his hands in his lap. They sat like that for a few long minutes as Hyungwon was steadily calmed by Minhyuk. Kihyun and Changkyun came to sit by them and eventually Jooheon followed, everyone now forming a sort of circle and comforting each other by simple closeness.

“I’m sorry,” Hyungwon finally choked out, breaking the silence.

“No,” Changkyun said simply, his quiet voice certain and final.

“No,” Minhyuk echoed, not so quietly. “You don’t have to apologize for him. Ever.”

Wonho helped maneuver the boy out of Minhyuk’s lap and into a sitting position. Sniffling, Hyungwon looked at each boy in turn, not quite able to lift his head but making firm eye contact all the same.

“Thank you, then.” Smiling shyly, he added, “You guys really are my family, you know. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to know,” Jooheon grinned, followed by smiles and nods of agreement from the circle. Shownu slowly stood, beaming with what everyone knew was pride, and held out his hand to Wonho.

“Let’s go home,” he said, helping Wonho to his feet and moving to Hyungwon and Minhyuk to do the same for them. “We all need to rest up for our trip tomorrow.”

Jooheon blinked, confused. “Wait, where are we going?”

Wonho glanced at him, raising an eyebrow, “...To see Shidae?” Wonho guessed that Jooheon must have been distracted when they had decided on going, but the other boy would never admit it.

“Oh, right,” he said quickly, “To see Shidae, of course.”

At the mention of their search for the shaman, excitement pushed back the dark cloud that had been hanging over them—Wonho even saw Hyungwon brighten a little. As they set out for the orphanage, Wonho found himself serving as the caboose again but didn’t mind—it was good to see his family together and closer than ever. Minhyuk and Hyungwon were holding hands despite it being daylight, and Wonho was close enough to hear their whispered exchange.

“I love you,” Minhyuk said softly, pulling the other boy as close as he could. “So much.”

Wonho could hear the smile in the other boy’s voice as he replied, “I love you, too.”

Not wanting to intrude on their private moment, Wonho let himself fall further back and allowed his mind to wander. Even though the path home was a familiar one, he was content to simply follow, safe in the knowledge that he would not be led astray.


	5. Chapter 5

The boys set out early, walking to the base of the mountains to hopefully find the shaman. Changkyun walked beside Kihyun for the whole two hours it took to get there. Kihyun’s legs were obviously bothering him, but he managed a relatively brisk pace. Changkyun was worried about him, but decided that the best way to support his friend was to stay close by and treat him no differently than any of the other boys. They talked as they went, trying to guess what the shaman would be like and whether or not they would get to experience the mysterious Kiform ritual. They stopped for a break when they found the old deer path, drinking from their water bottles and resting in the shade—it was early still, but it was going to be a hot day.

“Alright, Changkyun,” Shownu said, shouldering his pack. “Think you can lead the way from here?”

Changkyun nodded nervously, trying to remember the way he and Grandfather had traveled up the mountain. After a moment of deliberation, he decided to trust his intuition and made his way to the front of the group. The other boys fell into a line behind him as they walked along the narrow trail, and Changkyun hoped that he wouldn’t get them all lost.

After a few turns he vaguely remembered, the trail widened and the boys came to a fork. Changkyun closed his eyes and breathed evenly for a few steps and when he opened his eyes he found that his feet were carrying him to the left. Showing more confidence than he felt, he led them along the left path which quickly opened up into a small clearing teeming with wildflowers. He grinned and turned back to his friends.

“This is where Grandfather and I picked the berries for our birthday breakfast,” he said proudly. “And that,” he pointed to the far side of the clearing, “is where Shidae should be.”

“Well done, Changkyun!” Shownu beamed. His eyes sparkling, he added, “Let’s stop for another break—we can have some of those berries with our water.”

The boys didn’t need to be told twice, hurrying off to the bushes that were thick with ripe raspberries and blackberries. They all settled themselves into the clearing and soon they all had high spirits and full stomachs. Jooheon was the first to stand, brushing grass off his pants as everyone followed suit. Changkyun jumped to his feet and held out his hands so that he could help Kihyun stand, receiving a megawatt smile in return that made his stomach do cartwheels. Changkyun looked around and realized that everyone was waiting for him to lead again, and hurried to the front of the group.

Crossing the clearing, Otherworld flowers steadily became more abundant—first small patches and then wide strips of the gorgeous flowers covered the ground until the boys were completely surrounded by a sea of blue. Having been focusing on not crushing the flowers underfoot, Changkyun looked up and saw a small house tucked into the trees with a small footpath leading to the front porch. He gasped, stopping so abruptly that Kihyun ran straight into him and almost knocked both of them over. Recovering, Changkyun heard more gasps from the other boys as they realized what they were seeing.

Shownu carefully picked his way to the front, briefly squeezing Changkyun’s shoulder and giving him an encouraging smile. Nodding mutely, Changkyun fell into step with Kihyun, feeling like he was floating rather than walking along the path. Looking back at them, Shownu climbed the few steps onto the porch and, after a moment of hesitation, knocked on the door.

The door swung open almost immediately, startling Changkyun into instinctively reaching out for Kihyun—the older boy looked at him quizzically, but linked their arms and gave Changkyun’s hand a comforting squeeze before turning his attention back to the man standing before them.

“You made it!” the man said in a booming voice, grinning widely.

He was easily over six feet tall, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, and had his muscular arms crossed casually over his chest. Changkyun thought he looked more like a lumberjack than a shaman, and was beginning to worry that they somehow found the wrong house until the man spoke again.

“My name is Shidae, shaman to the clans of old.” He winked, “Retired.”

“We’re…” Shownu began his introduction but was quickly cut off.

“I know who you are, and I’m glad you were able to find your way here—your Grandfather has told me a lot about you.” He gave them a knowing smile, “Please, come inside—we have a lot to talk about.”

As Shidae led them through his very normal-looking house, matching faces with names he had learned from Grandfather, the boys glanced around nervously, looking for anything that could identify the old man cheerfully giving them a tour of his home as a high-ranking spiritual authority in the old clans.

At the back of the house was a large room with comfy-looking chairs lining the walls and a small table in the middle, bare except for a plain vase filled with Otherworld flowers. At the doorway, Shidae stepped aside so that the boys could find places around the table. Changkyun was relieved to have found a place next to Kihyun—the older boy could always put him at ease, and even though Jooheon privately teased him for having a crush, Changkyun still found himself magnetically drawn to Kihyun. He glanced to his right and found Kihyun smiling at him and he couldn’t help but smile back, blushing furiously, not sure if it was because of the attention or because it was  _ Kihyun’s _ attention.

Shidae stepped into the room now that they were all seated and settled himself in the last available chair. Changkyun thought it awfully convenient that there were exactly eight places to sit, but the knowing smile on the shaman’s face led him to believe that it wasn’t just a coincidence.

“Your Grandfather told you about the Kiform ritual,” Shidae said. It wasn’t a question, but a few of the boys nodded an acknowledgment. “I have always wanted to meet you,” he continued, smiling sadly, “but I wish it were under better circumstances. He’s dying, isn’t he?”

Changkyun was shocked, at both his knowledge and how bluntly he shared it. He risked a glance at his friends, each showing varying degrees of amazement and frustration. Before any of them could find their voices, Shidae held out his hands, palms out in a steadying gesture.

“I’m sorry if that sounded harsh, but he and I have discussed this possibility for months now. He has lived a full life and has accepted that it is coming to a close. I hope that you all, in time, can accept that, too.” He brought his hands back into his lap, bowing his head in thought. When he sat straight again, he carefully studied each of the boys in turn. “This is a powerful ritual you have come for, and you will need your strength if you decide to go through with it. My wife has prepared food for you, and as you eat I will answer some of the questions written quite plainly on your faces.” He smiled again as a beautiful old woman stepped through the door, balancing seven bowls piled high with a dish Changkyun didn’t recognize but smelled delicious. As the food was passed around the circle, she caught his eye and winked before leaving the room in a flourish, and then Shidae clapped his hands together and began.

“In the times of the old clans, the Kiform ritual was a sacred rite that initiated new members into existing clans or, rarely, formed a new clan. The ritual serves as a forever-bond between clan members, connecting them by power drawn from the Otherworld flower. Back then, Otherworld flowers were carefully cultivated by the clans and protected from outsiders. Today, as I’m sure you’ve seen, they grow wild.”

“Why would the clans have let the flowers grow wild if they had to protect them?” Minhyuk asked the shaman.

“The clans considered the power of the Otherworld flowers too tempting for outsiders to abuse without understanding how to control it, but the knowledge of the Kiform ritual was kept secret within the clans. Even then, only small rumors reached outsiders and were not taken seriously. When the clans left, the ritual went with them and the rumors disappeared—the only significance the flowers carry for common people today is their beauty.”

Changkyun remembered Hyungwon picking some of the flowers from a window box in town the day before, and growing up with the beautiful blooms in Grandfather’s garden at the orphanage. He now understood that Grandfather had loved his Otherworld flowers for more than their aesthetic—they must have reminded him of his childhood with the clans and a time of magic lost when they had gone. He felt a rush of excitement at being given knowledge seemingly lost so long ago and eagerly waited for Shidae to continue his story.

“The shamans of old had an intuitive understanding of how the energies of both the physical and the spiritual worlds connected, and they were the ones who first attempted the Kiform ritual. Cumulative knowledge from generations of shamans has given us a rough understanding of these connections. When a person dies, their spirit travels to the Otherworld in its own way. Individuals who experience natural deaths go readily, having had their time on earth—terminal illness or old age are examples of this, and even though it isn’t easy for those left behind, many see it as a spirit being freed from its body and returning to the Otherworld where it may finally find peace. On the other hand, the spirits of people who suffer unnatural deaths often linger, unable or unwilling to pass into the spirit world before their time. Unnatural deaths vary from simple accidents to dying by another’s hand, including cases of suicide—these spirits grow restless, their time on earth cut short, and have a harder time crossing into the Otherworld. This is where the old shamans step in—their strengthened bond between both worlds allows them to guide lost spirits to where they belong.”

With a glow of pride, Shidae added, “When my time comes, I will join the ranks of shamans and continue the work they started so long ago. It won’t be for a while, mind you,” he said with a wink, “I’ve still got some go in me yet.”

A few of the boys laughed quietly, but Changkyun was so caught up in Shidae’s story that it took him a moment to pull himself back into the room. He looked around at his family and began to truly feel the weight of what they intended to do, excited but nervous to hear about what he knew would come next: the ritual itself.

“The Kiform ritual draws its power from the Otherworld flowers,” Shidae continued seamlessly, “and forms bonds within a clan, connections between members that transcend the physical limits of this world. Between clan members, these bonds are almost tangible—those who have completed the ritual have a heightened awareness of their energy and can move it to and from others at will, as well as draw more from the life around them. As common practice, new clan members are taught how to use their power over life energy very gradually so that they can become familiar with the limitations and avoid the consequences of overstepping those bounds.”

Spreading his arms, Shidae said grandly, “Every living thing carries its own life energy—people, animals, plant life—and manipulating the flow of that energy requires a sense of balance. Take too much energy from a tree and it will grow sick and die, give too much to an animal and its physical form will be overwhelmed. Furthermore, when manipulating energy, you must give some of your own to the mix or else the process will become unbalanced.”

The shaman looked around at the boys, directing his words to them seriously. “This is where the risk of abuse runs through this ritual. If a person who has completed this ritual takes life energy without giving back some of their own, they will effectively drain the source and cause harm. Though they will gain power that way, they will be carrying more than they are meant to have, going against nature. To harness this power will need patience and time, but if I didn’t think you could do so I wouldn’t be sitting here with you.”

Shidae gave them a warm smile, “But that isn’t for me to decide. I have given you the knowledge required for you to choose your path, and if you are all willing to abide by these rules within your new understanding, then we can proceed.”

Looking around the circle, Changkyun saw that they were already decided and grinned despite himself—they were ready for the challenge, and he knew that as long as they had each other they would have the discipline to heed the shaman’s advice.

Seeming to come to the same conclusion, Shidae nodded firmly with a confidence Changkyun was grateful for. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but with his friends and the bonds they already had coming into this ritual, he knew it would work.

Shidae rested his elbows on the table. “Let’s get started.”

 

\---

 

“There are seven key elements to the Kiform ritual, responsibilities assigned to specific people called Pillars,” Shidae told them. “Most clans numbered far more than seven, and the roles were delegated according to a member’s characteristics and how successfully they could embody and serve as these Pillars. Given that there are so few of you, each person must uphold his own Pillar if the ritual is to be completed.” Shidae looked at each boy in turn before continuing gravely, his voice low and powerful, “These are not to be taken lightly—this is old magic and you must take control of it whole-heartedly or else  _ it _ may take control of  _ you _ .” The shaman scrutinized each of them before settling his gaze on Shownu. “You are the leader, are you not?”

Shownu squared his shoulders and nodded solemnly. Changkyun felt a pride blossom in his chest that pushed back against the tension in the room. Shownu really was their leader, a rock they drew strength from and the longest lasting presence in their lives second only to Grandfather. Changkyun was more grateful than ever to have a leader like Shownu—it was a responsibility he knew the older boy took very seriously, but to hear it put so simply gave a power to the role that made him glad he didn’t have to carry it. A wave of guilt passed over Changkyun for shying away from the burden Shownu carried so readily, but it was quickly replaced by anticipation when Shidae turned to him next.

“And you are the youngest,” the shaman said. It wasn’t a question, but Changkyun nodded, trying to be brave like Shownu. Shidae smiled encouragingly before addressing them both.

“You two carry very important roles, opposite in age but more similar than you may think.” He turned to Shownu. “As the leader, your Pillar is that of the Hearth. You are the center of your group and a place of meeting. You provide the foundation of this ritual from which every Pillar draws strength, and your leadership will guide them.” Shidae narrowed his eyes, “In the past, a rare few members of a clan who had completed the ritual have abused its resulting power. The Otherworld flowers thrive off positive and true intentions, so when one loses sight of that and carries instead twisted or impure intentions their energy becomes warped. There have only been a handful of cases in the recorded history of Kiform, so it isn’t known what the full implications of the transgression are, but the people became known as having ‘gone bad’.” Shidae studied Shownu carefully, “As a leader, you must be watchful—use the strength of your Pillar and that of your friends to guard against this misuse of power. You have a good group,” he turned to address them all, “but the trials you all have yet to face can and will at times cloud your judgment. Under your guidance, Shownu, you should be able to avoid having to go through this—but you must fully embrace your role and lead your friends wisely, for they will follow you. Do you accept this responsibility and the Hearth as your Pillar?”

After a moment of heavy silence, Shownu said firmly, “I accept my Pillar.”

Shidae looked pleased, but maintained his air of authority as he turned to Changkyun.

“Your Pillar is another anchoring point, young one.” The shaman spoke without condescension, the phrase ‘young one’ carrying a significance Changkyun had never felt before when his age was mentioned. Ordinarily, Changkyun would have bristled at the term, but in this context it felt almost like a privilege. He met the shaman’s stare with determination and an unfamiliar sense of pride at being the youngest, ready for his assignation.

“You are quiet, purposeful with your words in a way that lends them power. Others take what you say to heart, encouraging self-reflection and growth. In this regard, your Pillar is that of the Mirror. You help your friends see in themselves where their strengths lie and how their faults make them human, just like you and me—with your sharp eyes and intuitive gift of observation, you see them for who they really are and will be responsible for ensuring no one loses themselves in the power of this ritual. Do you accept the Mirror as your Pillar?”

All eyes on him, Changkyun spoke without hesitation, “I accept my Pillar.”

Shidae’s eyes sparkled, saying quietly, “In the old times of the clans, you would have made a great shaman, young one.”

Changkyun felt his face burn bright red at such high praise, bowing slightly to the shaman. Dipping his head in acknowledgment, Shidae turned to Jooheon.

“There is a fire within you that burns fiercely, one that you must take care with else you burn out completely.” Terror flashed across Jooheon’s face but was quickly replaced with a practiced nonchalance, a pain lingering in his eyes the only indication of his anxiety. Changkyun was shocked at how quickly the shaman cut through Jooheon’s bravado, but understood why he had chosen such a blunt approach—now Shidae had the boy’s full attention.

“Passion drives you, Jooheon. It is both a blessing and a curse, but you have a talent for walking that line and you are stronger for it. Your bravery is tempered by compassion and you challenge the norm to prevent mental and spiritual stagnation. Your Pillar is that of the Coin—you make decisions and act on them, serving as a catalyst in times of uncertainty and inaction, and you carry the weight of conviction in everything you do.” Speaking carefully, Shidae fixed Jooheon with a powerful stare. “You must be careful that your passions do not rule you in a way that abandons rationality. Your gifts are as much volatile and potentially overpowering as they are essential.” He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully as if listening to something. “Take care to keep focus amidst the…rush.”

Changkyun saw the color drain from Jooheon’s face and he felt himself frown—obviously those words held great significance to the other boy, but he decided to leave it be for now. Everyone deserved to hold their own secrets, but he made a mental note to talk to Jooheon later.

Continuing despite Jooheon’s reaction, Shidae’s voice rang clear in the room. “Do you accept the Coin as your Pillar?”

Jooheon looked incredibly uncomfortable but sat up straight and spoke with certainty, “I accept my Pillar.”

Shidae nodded, satisfied. Before moving on, he gave Jooheon a meaningful look that must have somehow calmed Jooheon—the boy had settled and no longer looked in danger of passing out. Changkyun let out a slow breath he hadn’t known he was holding, ready for the shaman to reveal the next assignment.

“Wonho, you’re up next,” Shidae said. Wonho paled uncharacteristically, but nodded for him to continue. “You have strong connections with each and every boy sitting around this table—your talents lie in bridging gaps between your friends and connecting them in a way that makes you all stronger as a unit. Your Pillar is that of the Key. You will be responsible for opening channels between the Pillars and then keeping them open so that the power of the ritual may flow uninterrupted. However,” he cautioned, “power will inevitably be drawn to the ritual that exists outside of the Otherworld flowers. This energy will be raw and can overwhelm the ritual if left unchecked. You will have to judge and then balance the two energies, choosing what must stay within your circle as well as what must be kept separate.”

“But how will I know…?” Wonho stammered frantically before the shaman cut him off with a raised hand.

“I cannot explain how the balance will be maintained because this is your ritual, not mine.” A nervous energy swept over the room and Changkyun watched Wonho’s face fall, but Shidae spoke quickly. “Every ritual is different, but you are better equipped than you may realize. If you choose to accept your Pillar, it will also accept you—all you need to do is trust your friends, and yourself.”

Wonho looked around the circle, his eyes round with uncertainty as he looked to his friends. The boy’s gaze settled on Changkyun, searching his face, and he gave Wonho a reassuring smile—he trusted Wonho and knew that the boy would serve his Pillar well, but it was a decision he would have to make for himself. Seeming to find what he was looking for, Wonho looked back at the shaman.

Taking a shaky breath but speaking clearly, Wonho said, “I accept my Pillar.”

Shidae nodded briefly before moving on, radiating power and energy in a quick, efficient way. Changkyun understood why he had carried such a high position in the old clans, his dedicated focus was both reassuring and authoritative.

Facing Hyungwon and Minhyuk, Shidae said, “You two are very close.”

Glancing at Hyungwon, Minhyuk nodded for both of them, seeming unsure whether or not the shaman knew how close they really were.

Shidae smiled broadly, “You are in love, a bond as strong as I’ve ever seen.”

Hyungwon blushed shyly, but smiled and reached for Minhyuk’s hand. The two boys were beaming, as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Changkyun was relieved that they didn’t have to hide their relationship from Shidae. They were strong together and, like the shaman said, very much in love. Changkyun knew that they would need that strength for the ritual, sobering as he reminded himself that they were dealing with a very old and very powerful magic. He waited patiently for the shaman to continue.

“It is fitting that your Pillars are so closely related,” he went on. “Minhyuk, you are confident in yourself and in the bonds you forge. You trust and protect your friends, comfortable sharing your thoughts and hearing theirs in turn. You hold the power of communication, able to resolve misunderstandings and speak for those who feel they cannot speak for themselves. Your Pillar is that of the Ink and your role in this ritual is to maintain clarity and to translate in spirit what there are no words for.” Shidae looked at Minhyuk and spoke the now-familiar phrase, “Do you accept the Ink as your Pillar?”

“I accept my Pillar,” Minhyuk confirmed. His eyes shone as he added, “Thank you, Shidae.”

Smiling, Shidae turned to Hyungwon. “Are you ready for your Pillar?”

Hyungwon looked anything but ready, but he glanced at Minhyuk and nodded, bolstered by the other boy’s encouraging smile.

“You support your friends and are open to their concerns, often listening quietly to let them speak their minds. You are opinionated, but not forcefully so, and are a framework by which they can organize their words so they may better understand and voice their intentions. Your Pillar, coinciding with Minhyuk’s, is the Page. You are opportunity and possibility, able to foster any potential your friends have whether they are aware of it or not. In this ritual, you will be a conduit for your friends and will be responsible for articulating intents gathered by Minhyuk from his Pillar.” Shidae leaned across the table towards Hyungwon and spoke softly, “You must find your voice so that you may speak without fear. You are accustomed to quiet, but for this ritual you cannot hide behind it—trust your friends and their support so that you can support them in turn.” Straightening, he said, “Do you accept the Page as your Pillar?”

Hyungwon considered the shaman’s words carefully before finally replying, “I accept my Pillar.”

Giving the pair a warm smile, Shidae turned to Kihyun last.

“Your Pillar, Kihyun, is the most complex to describe, but one I believe you will understand and then carry successfully.”

Kihyun looked nervous, but said eagerly, “I’m ready.”

The boy’s unfailing positivity lightened the room’s atmosphere, everyone’s curiosity returning in full force for the shaman to continue.

The shaman grinned and Changkyun couldn’t stop himself from following suit. Kihyun’s excitement was contagious and just one of the many reasons why Changkyun cared so much for him. Kihyun was sitting slightly forward in his seat, eyes fixed eagerly on Shidae and Changkyun found himself leaning towards him to lightly press his side against the other boy’s, hoping to lend support through touch. Glancing sideways, Kihyun gave him a nervous smile—Changkyun blushed again, surprised by his forwardness, and wondered if he had overstepped his bounds until Kihyun’s hand found his under the table. Changkyun’s smile broadened and when he returned his attention to Shidae, the shaman was looking directly at him with an amused gleam in his eye. His attention casually turned back to Kihyun, and Changkyun was thankful for the shift in focus so that he could appreciate how good it felt to hold Kihyun’s hand.

“You see the best in people,” Shidae began. Changkyun pulled himself back into the conversation, but kept his fingers interlocked with Kihyun’s—both needing and giving the support in the gesture. “You put others before yourself, almost to a fault, often caring for your friends at a cost to yourself. You will be giving the strength of heart to this ritual—a gift you must be careful with.” His tone becoming serious, the shaman advised, “It will be important for you to remember that though there is courage in optimism and looking after those you love, there is also courage in asking for help when you truly need it.”

Kihyun’s grip tightened on Changkyun’s hand, and looking up he saw the beginnings of tears shining in the other boy’s eyes. Changkyun felt his heart lurch in his chest, ashamed that he had never thought to look past his friend’s outwardly cheerful image, never considered that it might be just that: an image. Without thinking, Changkyun let go of Kihyun’s hand just long enough to link arms with him before lacing their fingers back together. Kihyun laughed softly, smiling just enough that a few of the tears brimming in his eyes made tracks down the slopes of his cheeks.

In a very soft voice, Shidae broke the silence that had fallen over the room, “Kihyun, you give so much to your friends expecting nothing in return, but in time you will learn to accept the support they all can give back to you.”

Changkyun watched Kihyun’s face slowly brighten as he looked to the faces of his family around the table, all of them wordlessly conveying their appreciation and love. Having gone around the rest of the circle, Kihyun finally turned to him. With arms still linked, their faces were only inches apart and Changkyun froze, his heart hammering in his ribcage. Kihyun beamed with playful laughter in his eyes, and dipped his head so that their foreheads were touching.

The other boy whispered, “Thank you, Changkyun. For being here.” After a moment, he sat up straight again and they both turned back towards the circle, hands still clasped firmly together.

“Kihyun,” Shidae began again, “because of your selflessness and your purity of heart, your Pillar is that of the Crown. It is a mantel not many can carry, and while your friends and I believe you have the strength to do so, it is not for us to decide. Do you accept the Crown as your Pillar?”

“I accept my Pillar,” he readily replied with a strength Changkyun admired.

Shidae clapped his hands together, looking proudly at each boy. “The seven Pillars have been named.” He spoke the phrase formally and then stood, crossing the room and beckoning to the boys from the doorway. “It’s time I showed you the greenhouse.”

 

\---

 

Changkyun sat in the corner of Shidae’s living room, sitting on a fluffy gray blanket and holding a pillow in his lap. The shaman had brought them to the greenhouse and they had all helped carry in various supplies for the ritual they would perform in the morning, and now they were getting settled so they could get some rest for their early start. Shidae had given them all a pillow and blanket and then led them to the living room where they pushed all of the furniture to the walls so that there would be enough room for all seven of them. It would be a tight fit, but the boys were accustomed to sharing small spaces. Changkyun was glad that they could all be together despite it being a bit cramped. He was nervous about the ritual and needed his friends close to take the edge off, even though he knew he would be too keyed up to get much sleep.

“Can I sleep by you?” Changkyun pulled himself out of his wandering thoughts to find Kihyun standing with his pillow and bright blue blanket clutched tightly to his chest, looking almost bashful. Changkyun nodded, giving the older boy a bright smile.

After laying out his blanket, Kihyun grabbed his pillow and crawled to sit against the wall next to Changkyun, sitting cross-legged so that their knees just barely touched. They watched the other boys find places to sleep, but none of them made to actually lay down—after a few minutes, they were all quietly sitting in the room, each boy lost in his thoughts.

“Am I the only one who’s nervous about tomorrow?” Wonho asked quietly, breaking the silence and looking around the circle.

“I am, too,” Shownu said seriously. “But we’ll be okay. Promise.”

Jooheon quickly agreed, adding, “I’m excited, though. No way am I going to get any sleep…” he yawned, ruining the effect and making them laugh. “…tonight. Okay, maybe I’ll sleep a little bit,” he amended quietly, a smile on his face.

Yawns swept the room, as they do, and Changkyun was surprised when Kihyun threaded his arm through Changkyun’s and rested his head on his shoulder. Jooheon caught Changkyun’s eye and waggled his eyebrows, so Changkyun stuck his tongue out at him, but still tilted his head so that it lightly leaned on Kihyun’s. Kihyun made a soft happy sound and Changkyun hummed quietly until the other boy began nodding off.

Everyone shifted their blankets and pillows so that they were more or less laying down, hushed conversations dwindling until each boy fell asleep. Changkyun roused Kihyun just enough for him to coax the boy to crawl under his own blanket and then stood carefully, silently padding across the room to turn off the small lamp. Letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, he weaved between the bodies of his sleeping family and wrapped himself in his blanket, letting their rhythmic breathing lull him to sleep.

Just before drifting off, he heard a quiet shuffling and then felt the warm body of Kihyun still wrapped in his blanket snuggle into his chest. Changkyun hummed contentedly, stretching his arm out for Kihyun to rest his head on—the other boy quickly fell back asleep, snoring softly, and Changkyun fell into his dreams with a smile on his face.

 

\---

 

Changkyun was the first of the boys to wake, gently removing his arm from under Kihyun’s head and slipping his pillow in its place. Kihyun stirred, but didn’t wake, so Changkyun stood and stretched his arms over his head before picking his way through the maze of sleeping boys. Wonho was sprawled haphazardly, his legs tangled with Jooheon’s and his arm across Shownu’s chest. It was amazing how he could sleep that way—almost as amazing as how the other boys had let themselves become so entangled with him. Off to the side, Minhyuk and Hyungwon had fallen asleep facing each other, Hyungwon’s tall frame somehow folded to fit alongside Minhyuk’s perfectly. Changkyun smiled sleepily, still feeling the extra warmth from having Kihyun so close.

In the kitchen, Shidae was holding a steaming cup of tea and looked at Changkyun expectantly. Not sure what he was supposed to do, he silently sat down across the table from the shaman and folded his hands together.

“Did you sleep well?” Shidae asked.

“Yep,” Changkyun replied, still waking up. He rubbed at his eyes and blinked until his vision cleared. Looking back at the shaman, he was met with an amused smile and raised eyebrows. Tapping his fingers on the table self-consciously, he waited for Shidae to say something. Anything.

“We should go wake the others,” the shaman finally said, standing and carrying his tea with him.

It was underwhelming, but Changkyun figured it was better than nothing. More awake now, he followed to the living room where the other boys were just beginning to rouse, sitting up and folding their blankets. He went to do the same, sitting beside Kihyun whose hair was sticking up at odd angles. It was adorable.

“Good morning, boys,” Shidae said cheerfully.

Jooheon still looked half asleep. “Mornings are only good for morning people,” he grumbled to himself, shaking his head vigorously as if to jar his brain awake.

Shidae ignored him, “I hope you all got some sleep—we’ll need to begin preparing for the ritual soon.”

Mention of the ritual perked up the boys, and in five minutes they were all gathered in the kitchen where the shaman was making more tea.

“Sorry if you’re hungry,” he said. “The ritual requires fasting from everything except this tea I’m preparing for you, brewed from the Otherworld flowers and… a few other ingredients.” He grinned conspiratorially, making Changkyun nervous, but went on. “This tea will connect you more closely with each other, and you will need to draw strength from your Pillars to focus on the ritual amidst the flow of energies you’ll be experiencing for the first time.”

“Are we gonna trip?” Jooheon asked the shaman, genuinely curious. Shidae frowned, obviously preferring his wording, but before he could say anything, Jooheon simply nodded. “We’re going to trip. Okay.”

Changkyun rolled his eyes, but was glad that Jooheon had asked the question—it didn’t necessarily make him feel better about drinking hallucinogenic tea, but at least he knew what he was getting himself into.

Shidae turned his attention back to the kettle he had on the stove behind him. “The tea is almost ready. Okay, boys—you have everything you need in the greenhouse already. All you need to do is concentrate on your Pillars and the Otherworld flowers will guide you the rest of the way. Go ahead down and find your places around the table—I’ll bring the tea and then leave you to your own devices.”

“Wait, you’re not doing the ritual with us?” Wonho asked.

“Oh heavens, no—my time of participating in clan magic is long gone. This is your ritual, and your ritual alone. Now shoo, I’ll be right behind you.”

The boys nervously made their way out of the kitchen, but before Changkyun got to the door, Shidae gently grabbed his shoulder and beckoned for him to stay behind for a moment. Kihyun gave him a questioning look, and Changkyun shrugged but gave him a reassuring smile.

When he and Shidae had the kitchen to themselves, at first the shaman said nothing, silently pouring the tea into seven small cups and arranging them on a tray. Changkyun watched him work, patiently waiting for him to speak.

“I’ll need you to bring the tea to the greenhouse. I have gone as far as I can in aiding you boys, and so it’s up to you now.”

Changkyun felt panicked, but forced himself to push it aside. Tentatively, he asked, “Is there anything we should know? Any last words of advice?”

Shidae smiled wistfully, “My advice? Be exactly who you already are—the Kiform ritual will all make sense once you begin. Now, take this tea to the greenhouse. It will make you all feel sedated, but let yourselves drift off—it will feel like you are falling asleep, when truly you will be waking up.”

Handing the tray to Changkyun, the shaman gave him one last smile and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Changkyun to figure out how he was going to explain to his friends that by drinking this hallucinogenic tea they’ll wake up by falling asleep. He shook his head, carefully balanced the tea, and went to the greenhouse knowing that as soon as he walked through the door, it would be official—the Kiform ritual would begin.

 

\---

 

_ Seven boys opened their eyes for the first time, surrounded by flowers and clothed in black, in a greenhouse that was more than just a greenhouse. They reached for bowls of paint and then each other, drawing stripes and streaks, and found themselves to be familiar strangers. There was a haze that drowned all sound, leaving only sight and touch and seven boys who remembered what they had never learned and began. _

_ From flowers and through seven boys, jars were filled and lifted by shaking limbs that were so new to the color blue. Overwhelmed and faltering, their arms stretched skyward and were steadied by ancient hands that had in turn grown steady with time. The shamans of old gently guided them to their Pillars, speaking lost words into a room without sound—the boys took up their Pillars and fell into place to finish what they started, their intentions as raw and pure as they should be. Energy spread in arcs of light, seen for the first time but not for the last, and through spasms and shakes the boys blurred lines between this world and the Other with eyes drenched in clarity. _

_ Paint continued to trace cheekbones and jawlines and necks in a collision of color, every layer building on the last until both colors and canvases mixed and became one. Seven vials for seven boys brought back to roots they didn’t know they had, siphoned from a power they didn’t know there was, to create an elixir that would change their lives in ways they could only imagine. _

_ Seven boys closed their eyes having learned what it was like to open them for the first time. They woke to a greenhouse that was just a greenhouse, surrounded by flowers and each other. The paint faded, the shakes faded… but the light remained. _


	6. Chapter 6

Shownu unlocked the front door of the orphanage and held it open as the other boys filed inside, chattering excitedly about their visit with Shidae and flocking to the kitchen. Hanging back, Shownu closed the door behind him and wandered to his room, happy to be home. He sat on his neatly made bed and closed his eyes, letting the noise from the kitchen become a low background hum.

He was relieved that the Kiform ritual had gone on without a hitch, smiling as a warm glow of pride washed over him—he had never doubted the strength of his family, but he was still pleased with how each boy had claimed and then supported their Pillars for themselves. They were officially a clan now, their bonds of family strengthened into true forever-bonds by the Otherworld flowers. On the way home they had decided that their clan needed a name. The clans of old were numbered—the First Clan, Second Clan, Third Clan, etc— and since they didn’t know how many clans there had actually been, they decided on being named the X-Clan. This was in keeping with the numbering tradition but also acknowledged that theirs was a new kind of clan, one that took the core elements of the old clan ways and adapted them for a more modern age.

Pulling himself back into the present, Shownu glanced at the clock on the wall of his room, realizing that Minhyuk and Kihyun would need to leave for the hospital soon if they were going to make it in time for Kihyun’s appointment. Deciding quickly, he reached for his small backpack and headed to the kitchen.

Walking through the kitchen doorway, Shownu saw that the boys were winding down and clearing their dishes before presumably going off to lounge in the great room. Food was about the only thing that could sedate everyone enough for a lazy afternoon and today he was glad for the quiet. Exhausted himself, Shownu longed to take a nap and bask in the happy atmosphere, but instead he went to the fridge and grabbed a few bottles of water before going to Kihyun’s room. There, he found the boy sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by clothes and notebooks.

“Hey, Kihyun,” Shownu said in greeting.

“Hi Shownu,” the boy replied with a bright smile. He gestured to the mess and explained sheepishly, “I’m trying to figure out how to pack.”

Worry touched the boy’s features and Shownu carefully found a clear section of floor to sit with him. Kihyun surveyed his things, fidgeting with the empty duffel in his lap. Shownu knew that he was nervous about the surgery for his legs, as minor as it was, and he leaned his elbows on his knees, resting his chin and studying the scattered belongings seriously.

“Well, since you’ll have a lot of downtime, your notebooks would be good to pack,” Shownu said slowly, trying to give him somewhere to start. Kihyun shot him a grateful look and began carefully stacking his notebooks. The boy stuck out his tongue while he worked, a quirk of his when he was concentrating on something, and Shownu smiled to himself.

“So,” Shownu began, “I was planning on visiting Grandfather tonight, and was hoping I could walk with you and Minhyuk—I wouldn’t go the whole way since he’s at the local hospital and you’ll be across town, but…” he trailed off lamely, not finding the words he needed.

“But you don’t want to go alone?” Kihyun quietly finished for him. Shownu looked up and the boy smiled encouragingly. “It’s alright, Shownu—of course you can walk with us. Just tell Grandfather we all miss him, okay?”

“Of course,” he said gratefully. “Thank you.”

Kihyun grinned, nodding his head briefly before turning back to his packing.

Minhyuk whistled from the door, “You ready, Kihyun?” Noticing Shownu, he added, “Are you coming, too?”

“Just as far as the local hospital,” Kihyun said smoothly. “He’s going to see Grandfather and I asked him to walk with us.” He glanced at Shownu with a gleam in his eyes before turning back to Minhyuk. “Are _you_ ready? Where’s your stuff?”

The white-haired boy blinked, “Right. Stuff. Um…give me five minutes.”

Shownu and Kihyun waited until Minhyuk had hurried off before they burst out laughing. Kihyun began folding clothes into his pack more confidently, shaking his head.

“I swear he would forget his head if it wasn’t attached to his shoulders.”

 

\---

 

Walking through town, the boys kept pace with Kihyun. Shownu glanced at Minhyuk who was fidgeting with his and Kihyun’s bags slung over his shoulder, glad that he was being respectful of Kihyun’s slower walk. Shownu had asked to stop a few times so they could rest and drink some water, and while Kihyun seemed grateful for the breaks he was clearly more frustrated about their slow progress than any of them. Shownu was glad that Kihyun was finally getting the surgery done—the boy never complained, but his strides looked stiff and his determination couldn’t quite cover the pain clouding his eyes.

Shownu was about to call for another break when Kihyun stumbled, crying out and twisting to avoid crashing down on his knees, landing heavily on his side instead.

“Kihyun!” Shownu rushed forward to help the boy to his feet, but to his surprise Kihyun spun around and scooted away from him.

“I’m fine!” he spat, struggling to his feet without help. He limped a few paces away to lean against the nearest building, crossing his arms angrily.

Shownu knew not to take Kihyun’s outburst personally, but gave him some space all the same—even from a distance he could see how badly the boy was shaking. Minhyuk stood uncomfortably in the middle of the street, glancing between Shownu and Kihyun.

“So…” Minhyuk asked tentatively, “Are we stopping for a break?”

Shownu sighed tiredly, “Yeah. Five minutes and we’ll start off again.”

Minhyuk immediately untangled himself from the straps of the two bags he was carrying and sat on the ground, rubbing at his shoulders before sprawling on his back.

Shownu grabbed a bottle of water from his pack and leaned over Minhyuk, raising an eyebrow and trying not to laugh. He held out the water and asked, “You okay down there?”

Minhyuk took the bottle without sitting up and mumbled, “Heavy.”

“I offered to carry the bags,” Shownu reminded him, smiling before walking over to Kihyun.

Kihyun was still standing, but he seemed more sad than angry as Shownu approached, silently offering him some water. The other boy took the bottle, looking down at the ground.

“Sorry I yelled at you,” he said quietly.

“It’s okay,” Shownu assured him before adding gently, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just scratched up a bit.”

“I didn’t mean from the fall,” Shownu said softly.

The other boy finally looked up, meeting Shownu’s eyes. He gave a half-hearted smile and nodded, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle and draining half of it. Not wanting to push him, Shownu leaned against the wall and tilted his head back, closing his eyes against the sun. It was going to be a long day.

 

\---

 

They parted ways at the local hospital, Minhyuk and Kihyun waving goodbye as they continued across town. Shownu stood outside, staring at the old building and trying to psych himself up enough to walk inside. He hated hospitals.

He took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping inside and walking the familiar route to Grandfather’s room. Shownu would never admit it to the other boys, but he wasn’t just worried about Grandfather—he was terrified.

Knocking softly on the doorframe, Shownu poked his head into the room and saw a nurse standing at the foot of the hospital bed.

“Grandfather?”

“He’s resting, but you’re welcome to come sit with him awhile,” the nurse said, glancing up from her clipboard to give Shownu a wan smile.

Shownu made his way to the one chair in the room and perched on the edge of the seat, looking at Grandfather and feeling like all of the oxygen had been swept from the room. He was wearing a knit cap that Shownu had brought a few days earlier and was tucked under the sheets up to his chin, shivering violently and moaning quietly in his sleep.

“He’s gotten worse,” he managed to whisper. His tongue felt like sandpaper and he realized he was wringing his hands nervously. Willing himself to stay calm, he gulped uncomfortably and glanced up at the nurse who looked grim. “What happened?” he asked, bracing himself for whatever news she would give him.

“He came down with a fever early yesterday,” she explained. “It hasn’t broken yet, and with him so sick already…” she looked at Shownu, adding quietly, “It doesn’t look good.”

“Is there anything we can do?” he asked, meeting her eyes and trying not to cry.

“An operation would be extremely risky, but the doctor says is could buy him some time. It’s just…” she trailed off.

“Just what?” he pressed.

“It’s expensive.” She fidgeted with her clipboard before handing him a slip of paper.

Shownu took the note and looked at the figure written on it, feeling like he was going to be sick—there was no way they could come up with that kind of money. “How long does he have without the operation?”

“The Doctor can explain the details to you—she’s in surgery right now, but when she’s done I can ask her to…”

“How. Long.” Shownu repeated desperately.

The nurse looked incredibly uncomfortable. “Not long. A few days, maybe.” She tried to catch Shownu’s eyes, but he was staring intently at Grandfather so she sighed and said softly, “I’m sorry.” She left the room to give them some time alone, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Shownu ran his fingers through his hair, his mind reeling. _A few days, maybe_. He wanted to scream, but reached out to hold Grandfather’s hand instead. It was clammy, but he didn’t care—he desperately needed the touch, to feel Grandfather still being here. He blanched when he thought about breaking the news to the other boys, picturing their crestfallen faces—they would be devastated. He swiped at his eyes, trying and failing to calm his racing thoughts. What were they going to do without him?

“What am _I_ going to do without you?” he whispered to the room.

Hanging his head, Shownu saw the corner of a bag sticking out from underneath the bed. He pulled it out and recognized it as the one he and the boys had brought Grandfather a few days earlier. He sifted through the trinkets the boys had brought, his eyes landing on a mask they had used in a game where half of them pretended to be cops and the other half bank robbers—Grandfather had found them in the middle of the game, walking into the great room to find most of the couches turned on their sides and white fluff scattered throughout from where they had cut holes in their hats to make the masks. Rather than being angry, Grandfather pretended to be a giant monster that both the cops and robbers had to band together to defeat, the battle resulting in Grandfather being tied to one of the sofas and the kids claiming their collective victory.

Shownu couldn’t help but smile at the memory, but he knew he needed to get back to the orphanage. Glancing at the door and then back at Grandfather, Shownu pushed the bag back under the bed but kept the mask. Shoving it into his backpack, he stood and crossed the room—with his hand on the doorknob, he looked over his shoulder at Grandfather one more time before stepping into the hall and hurrying through the short maze of hallways. Outside the hospital, Shownu sat on one of the benches that flanked the building. He took out his bottle of water and drank from it mechanically, dreading the walk back home. He would tell the boys only what they needed to know: that Grandfather was very sick and that an operation might be able to give him more time. He stood laboriously and began his long walk home, willing his legs to maintain a brisk pace despite wanting nothing more than to run back to Grandfather’s side while he still could.

 

\---

 

The boys sat in stunned silence after Shownu explained Grandfather’s situation.

“He has to have that surgery,” Jooheon finally said.

“We can’t afford it,” Shownu said gloomily. They had always had enough to get by, but money was a sensitive subject that was usually skirted around when it came up.

“How much is the surgery?” Changkyun asked.

Shownu mutely handed him the slip of paper the nurse had given him—Jooheon looked over Changkyun’s shoulder and swore, the other boys gathering around and staring at the number written there in disbelief.

“How the hell are we supposed to come up with that kind of money?” Wonho asked exasperatedly. “It’s not like we can rob a bank.”

Shownu looked at him sharply, but then he remembered the mask still in his backpack, an idea taking root in his head.

The other boy raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Shownu glanced between the other boys, each one looking at him quizzically. Wonho was the first to read his expression, his eyes growing wide.

“Oh, no—that’s not…” he stammered. “No. Shownu, no—I was joking!”

“Do you have a better idea?” Shownu snapped, glaring at the other boy even though he knew it was unfair of him.

“You want us to rob a bank?” Hyungwon asked incredulously, finally catching on.

The other boys erupted into an incoherent stream of concerns and questions until Shownu couldn’t take it anymore.

“STOP!” He yelled, the following silence almost as deafening as all of their overlapping voices had been. He sighed, “Look, I know it’s crazy—but Grandfather _needs_ this surgery and there simply isn’t another way for us to get the money for it.

Jooheon stood abruptly, drawing the room’s attention and looked at each of them seriously.

“I’m in,” he announced. Glancing around, he added, “for Grandfather.”

Shownu stood also, giving Jooheon a grateful glance before repeating, “For Grandfather.”

One by one the other boys stood and as they agreed to the plan, Shownu felt a rush of excitement sweep through the room. They were going to do it. They were actually going to _rob a bank_. Trying to ignore the guilt already beginning to form a pit in his stomach, Shownu clapped his hands together.

“Okay, first thing’s first: we all need to get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll gather everything we need, and then we’ll go as soon as Minhyuk is back from the hospital the next day.” He gulped nervously, but tried to maintain an air of confidence as their leader. “Sleep fast, everyone. We start at sunrise.”

 

\---

 

Shownu waited in the alley by the bank and tried to quell his panic. Jooheon had been in charge of finding a gun to use in the robbery today, and he was running late. Shownu bounced nervously on the balls of his feet, gripping Jooheon’s makeshift mask tightly in his hands. There had only been enough hats to make six masks, so Shownu insisted that he would go without—if they were caught, he wanted to be the one to take the fall to keep his family safe.

The boys had spent the entirety of the day before getting ready and working out the kinks in their plan. They had found some old hats and cut out holes to make them into crude masks and then memorized the order of events that would constitute the robbery. Step one was Jooheon getting the gun and _he was late_.

Just as Shownu was considering scratching the plan and trying to rob a bank without a gun, Jooheon came jogging down the street and casually slipped into the alley with a canvas bag in his hands. Before Shownu could say anything, Jooheon put a finger to his lips and opened the bag enough for Shownu to see the gun shining dully from the bottom. Jooheon smirked and then held out the bag to Shownu who gingerly tucked it against his side. Jooheon took his mask and silently jogged a ways down the street before disappearing into another alley where the boys were waiting.

His heartbeat galloping, Shownu took a shaky breath before stepping out of the alley and breaking into a run, the others converging on the bank right behind him. Wrenching open the door, the boys slipped inside and quickly pulled the door shut behind them. Wonho stationed himself by the door and Minhyuk pulled the shades down to cover the windows. Hyungwon hurried to the lone camera in the corner of the room, using his height and long arms to reach up and cover it with a scrap of black fabric they had torn from an old jacket. Changkyun and Jooheon flanked Shownu as he strode up to the desk, pointing the gun at the glass barricade between him and the terrified teller. Knowing that they couldn’t waste any time, Shownu gestured to the duffel Changkyun was carrying and locked eyes with the teller.

“Fill the bag,” he said simply, trying to ignore the brief satisfaction from the immediate response he got because he was wielding the gun. He silently watched the bag being filled until it couldn’t hold any more of the bills. Motioning subtly with the gun, Changkyun quickly zipped the bag shut and handed it to Shownu, who then hefted it onto his shoulder by the strap and smoothly transferred the gun to Jooheon.

Wanting to apologize to the teller but knowing he shouldn’t, Shownu turned and sprinted through the door Wonho held open for him. The boys were close behind him, but ran in the opposite direction back to the orphanage—he would meet them there after going to the hospital to set up the surgery.

_A few days, maybe_. The nurse’s words rang in his ears and he pushed himself even harder, his legs and lungs burning in protest but not daring to let himself slow down. His feet pounding on the pavement, Shownu ran to their Grandfather, praying that he wouldn’t be too late.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Minhyuk took off his mask as soon as they walked into the orphanage, glad to be rid of its stifling material. The other boys gathered in the kitchen, recounting the robbery in hushed, anxious voices. Shownu had gone to the hospital straight from the bank, rushing the money to Grandfather for his surgery. Now all they could do was wait and hope they hadn’t been too late.

Minhyuk walked to the great room and gratefully sank into his favorite couch, feeling the weight of the last few days now that everyone’s collective adrenaline was wearing off. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes and listening to the low hum of conversation in the other room. It could have been just another day, everyone gathered in the kitchen and bickering over food until Grandfather shooed them out before they emptied the pantry. He and Hyungwon usually left well before then, retreating to this very couch that they could just barely fit in together.

That’s why it was Minhyuk’s favorite, this was  _ their _ couch—the one where they had spent countless hours talking about anything and everything, or sitting quietly and just being the kind of close you can only get on a small couch, and the one they claimed on movie nights because Hyungwon would almost always fall asleep before the end, nestled against Minhyuk’s chest and still holding his hand. Minhyuk smiled, remembering all the times they had stayed on this couch long after everyone had retired to their rooms, him listening to Hyungwon’s rhythmic breathing until falling asleep himself. He always felt safest when he was close to Hyungwon.

The chatter in the kitchen was gone when he opened his eyes. Suddenly feeling very alone, Minhyuk pulled himself to his feet and went off to find Hyungwon because without him, it was just another couch.

 

\---

In the kitchen, Jooheon and Changkyun were sitting close together, talking quietly and reading what looked like a picture book. When Minhyuk walked in, Jooheon squeaked and hastily closed the book, pushing it slightly away from himself.

“It’s just me,” assured Minhyuk, lifting his hands in mock surrender. That boy could be seriously jumpy.

Jooheon leaned back in his chair so casually that it was obviously forced, and assessed Minhyuk while Changkyun quietly excused himself, taking the picture book with him.

“Today’s been crazy, yeah?” Jooheon said after Changkyun had gone, the smirk on his face a stark contrast with the tension in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Minhyuk agreed, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe, “but at least we can cross ‘robbing a bank’ off our bucket lists.”

“Always the optimist,” Jooheon laughed, his grin reaching his eyes this time.

“Well, someone has to be,” Minhyuk said, sticking his tongue out while Jooheon rolled his eyes. It was such a typical exchange that Minhyuk could almost pretend that the last week hadn’t happened. The look on Jooheon’s face told Minhyuk that the other boy had reached the same conclusion.

“Do you know where Hyungwon is?” Minhyuk asked, remembering the lonely couch, “I haven’t gotten a chance to see him since I got back.”

Panic flashed across Jooheon’s face, so briefly that Minhyuk almost missed it.

“He’s, um…” Jooheon was stalling, setting off warning bells in Minhyuk’s head. He narrowed his eyes, giving Jooheon a pointed look.

“Where is he, Jooheon?”

“His room, maybe?” He spoke frantically, “I don’t know, I’m sure he’s around…somewhere. I mean, this place isn’t a mansion, but there are still plenty of places someone could be, and…” Minhyuk’s glare slowed Jooheon’s babbling into an uncomfortable silence.

Jooheon sighed heavily, “I don’t know where he is, Minhyuk. He took off as soon as we got back.” Jooheon stared at his hands, avoiding Minhyuk’s eyes, “Best guess is the attic, he’s been there a lot while you’ve been away.”

Minhyuk waited for Jooheon to elaborate, but was met with silence and turned towards the hallway.

“Minhyuk, wait!”

Minhyuk paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“The last few days have been…” Jooheon nervously ran his hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. “Just…don’t freak out, okay?”

Minhyuk felt himself frown and then headed to the attic.

 

\---

Minhyuk climbed the back staircase and lightly knocked on the door to the attic, gently cracking open the door.

“Hyungwon? Can I come in?” he asked softly.

After a moment’s hesitation, Minhyuk heard a small voice reply, “Okay.”

Easing the door closed behind him, Minhyuk saw Hyungwon sitting on the bare floor, still wearing his mask from the robbery. Worried now, Minhyuk carefully sat across from him, mirroring his position. Minhyuk leaned down and forward, trying to catch Hyungwon’s eye and scared of what he might find there. The other boy only dipped his head lower, somehow folding his tall frame even smaller than before.

“Hyungwon, what’s wrong?” he asked in almost a whisper, the way one would talk to a frightened animal, “What’s going on?”

Hyungwon didn’t respond right away and Minhyuk waited patiently.

“It just happened,” Hyungwon finally said, his voice hoarse and trembling. “It just…happened, and there was nothing I could do. The soldiers, they…and Father…” his voice hitched at the mention of his father, and Minhyuk’s heart lurched, jumping to conclusions he desperately hoped were wrong.

He tentatively placed one hand on Hyungwon’s knee, his heart breaking when the other boy flinched, and reached up towards the bottom of the mask. Hyungwon half-heartedly pushed at Minhyuk’s hand, but soon quieted under his touch. Peeling the mask away, Minhyuk gasped, tears filling his eyes and anger rising in his throat. Hyungwon’s face was badly bruised, the his high cheekbones stained a deep purple and his lips split and swollen, but the haunted look in his eyes held a different kind of pain, one that Minhyuk knew wouldn’t fade for a long time.

“You said soldiers did this to you?” Minhyuk finally managed to ask. Hyungwon nodded, tears forming in his eyes, too.

“But why would…” Minhyuk trailed off, his expression darkening. “It was him.”

Hyungwon whimpered a wordless confirmation, reaching for Minhyuk’s hand.

“Your father sent his soldiers after you.” Minhyuk went on, practically spitting out his words. “That bastard sent trained soldiers to beat up his only son. For what, his pride? Just because he can?” Minhyuk stood, too keyed up to sit. A small part of his brain registered Hyungwon flinch again and begin to cry, but it was overwhelmed by the rush of anger towards a man who had only ever hurt Hyungwon.

Hyungwon, the boy next door who quickly became his best friend, who had shared so much of his life with. Minhyuk’s memories of the two of them danced across his vision—their adventures, their dreams, all the times they laughed and cried together, their first kiss…

“Dammit Hyungwon, why didn’t you tell me?” Minhyuk said sharply, sharper than he meant to.

“You were at the hospital with Kihyun, and…” Hyungwon protested weakly.

“And when I got back this morning?”

“I…” Hyungwon hung his head, wanting to curl up into a ball and disappear, “I didn’t know how.”

Minhyuk knelt down beside Hyungwon, a fire in his eyes. “Hyungwon, listen to me.” He carefully tilted Hyungwon’s chin up so that their eyes met, gently brushing a kiss against the other boy’s bruised lips. He spoke slowly, deliberately, “He will never hurt you again.”


	8. Chapter 8

“I’m going to kill him.”

Wonho looked up from where he was reading at the kitchen table as Minhyuk stormed into the room, sitting heavily in one of the chairs. The other boy rubbed his eyes viciously and fixed Wonho with a glare. Wonho dog-eared his page and carefully closed the book, meeting Minhyuk’s eyes and waiting for the other boy to continue.

“Tell me what happened.”

Minhyuk’s voice was quiet, but Wonho could hear the anger seething behind his words. Wonho didn’t bother being coy—he knew exactly what Minhyuk meant but also that he deserved an honest answer no matter how hard it would be to hear. He composed himself, speaking slowly but deliberately.

“Hyungwon was ambushed by soldiers the night before last when he went for a walk. He said that he needed some time alone and wanted to go to the fountain—I…” Wonho swallowed uncomfortably, “I think he missed you.”

A look of pain flashed across Minhyuk’s face and Wonho felt his own face burn bright red, wishing he hadn’t said anything. There was a fountain about a five minutes’ walk from the orphanage, a favorite spot for Minhyuk and Hyungwon second only to the couch in the great room they always crammed into together, the two tall boys making the poor piece of furniture seem comically small. It had been obvious that Hyungwon had gone to the fountain because it reminded him of Minhyuk, and Wonho had let him go alone— a decision he had regretted every moment since the younger boy had stumbled back through the front door that night, crying and badly beaten, begging the boys not to tell Minhyuk before collapsing entirely. They had carried him to his room and bandaged him up as best they could, staying with him in shifts until Hyungwon fell asleep. Wonho remembered checking in on him just before sunrise and finding Shownu wrapped in blankets and snoring on the floor next to the bed.

Minhyuk had his hands clasped tightly together and was staring intently at the table, his body held so still that Wonho could barely make out his breathing. After a long moment, he let out a ragged sigh and looked up, his expression more sad than Wonho had ever seen it but with a defiant fire still in his eyes.

“You should have told me.”

“He asked us not to…” Wonho argued feebly, eliciting a humorless bark of laughter from the other boy.

“I figured,” Minhyuk replied, shaking his head sadly. He fixed Wonho with another stern look, “but you still should have told me.”

Wonho studied his hands, too ashamed to meet the other boy’s eyes. After another pause, he saw Minhyuk’s hands reach out and cover his own.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” he said in a softer voice. “You’re a good friend, Wonho.”

Tears sprang to Wonho’s eyes, but he managed to look up at Minhyuk and give him a small nod of gratitude. Giving his hands another squeeze, Minhyuk sat up and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning back in his chair almost lazily.

“I meant what I said, you know.”

Wonho tilted his head, lost at the other boy’s abrupt change. Minhyuk tilted his head the same way so that their eyes were level.

“I’m going to kill him.” he said, a little too cheerfully.

Wonho straightened and rubbed his eyes with his shirtsleeves, giving Minhyuk a blank, exasperated look.

“Kill who?”

Minhyuk frowned, “You don’t know?”

Wonho narrowed his eyes, not liking where this conversation was going.

“Don’t know _what_ , Minhyuk?

“The soldiers that attacked Hyungwon,” Minhyuk said plainly, “they were sent by his father.”

Wonho gaped, his mind flashing back to the ugly confrontation under the bridge. It wasn’t a secret that there was bad blood between Hyungwon and his father, but to order soldiers to beat up his only son… Wonho ground his teeth together and found Minhyuk’s eyes, seeing a steely determination there that he felt now running through his own veins—an eerie calm settled over him as his mind worked.

“I’m in,” he said firmly. “Tell me what I need to do.”

Minhyuk’s resulting smile sent shivers down Wonho’s spine.

 

\---

 

Wonho surveyed the storage shed with Minhyuk, who was nervously pulling at his white hair and making it stick up at funny angles.

“Minhyuk, stop. You’re making me fidgety.”

Wonho batted the other boy’s hands away and tried petting his hair back down in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. Minhyuk seemed to barely notice him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other impatiently while his eyes scanned the admittedly chaotic shed. The shelves were packed with odds and ends—toys that the boys had outgrown, random tools and hardware waiting to be useful, old buckets of paint that had been used on the outside of the shelf itself—but nothing that could help them with their plan.

“What exactly _is_ the plan, Minhyuk?” Wonho asked, lowering himself to sit against the shed door. “Or are we just sort of winging it?”

Minhyuk glared halfheartedly at him, sliding down so that they sat next to each other. The other boy banged the back of his head on the door, making a frustrated sound.

“I don’t have a plan,” he sighed. “But I can’t just do _nothing_.”

Wonho thought for a minute, glancing at Minhyuk and then at the house.

“We need help.”

“What do you mean?” said Minhyuk, turning to face him.

Wonho arched his eyebrow, “What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’? We need help—we’re obviously not getting anywhere on our own. We don’t even have a plan!”

Minhyuk was quiet, intently studying his dusty shoes. “Who, though?”

Wonho paused, weighing their options, the other boy making a soft humming noise as he thought. Hyungwon was obviously out of the question. Kihyun was in the hospital so he was out, too. Wonho frowned when he realized that Shownu still wasn’t back yet—which both eliminated the older boy and set Wonho worrying again. Minhyuk was the first to speak, pulling Wonho back to the present moment.

“We could ask Jooheon.”

“Definitely not Jooheon,” Wonho said immediately. “You saw how crazy he was during the robbery this morning—I think we need someone more…subtle.”

“Changkyun is about as subtle as they come,” Minhyuk replied, “but do you think he’d help us?”

“Yes,” Wonho said without hesitation. Changkyun was quiet, but fiercely protective of everyone in their little group. “He’s resourceful, too. I bet he can come up with a plan.”

Wonho stood and helped pull Minhyuk to his feet, closing the shed door before they headed back inside to go find Changkyun.

 

\---

 

The pair found Changkyun in his room, sitting cross-legged on the bed and looking like he had been expecting them. He frowned, taking in their disheveled appearances.

“You’re going after Hyungwon’s father,” he said evenly. It wasn’t a question, but Wonho felt himself nodding. He was too tired to wonder how Changkyun knew about the soldiers—the boy always seemed to know things he shouldn’t.

“We need your help,” Wonho said, trying not to let his exhaustion sharpen his words. He glanced over at Minhyuk who was messing with his hair again, narrowing his eyes until the other boy lowered his hands to his sides apologetically.

“What’s the plan?” Changkyun asked, ignoring their exchange.

“That’s the problem,” Minhyuk said quietly. “We don’t have one.”

Changkyun bit his lip thoughtfully, tilting his head in concentration. He looked from Wonho to Minhyuk and back again, before nodding once to himself as if in confirmation.

“I know where the soldiers are staying—“

“How…” Minhyuk interrupted. “Nevermind.” He rubbed his face vigorously and motioned for him to continue, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Minhyuk.” Changkyun said reassuringly. Wonho shot him a grateful look, glad that he was being patient with their anxious friend.

“They’re in the apartment building on the northeast corner of the main square,” Changkyun continued smoothly. “At least the new soldiers are—the main barracks were probably getting pretty crowded since so many more of them have been sent in the last few weeks.”

The boys were quiet for a moment—Wonho knew that all of them had felt increasingly oppressed with each wave of new soldiers, the whole town becoming slowly outnumbered by the growing military presence. At the orphanage, their group had discussed the resulting unease during a few late night conversations, but they still didn’t have even a theory as to why.

“Okay,” Minhyuk said slowly. “So we know where they are now. That’s a good start.”

“It’s not just a start,” Changkyun grinned. “It’s the plan.”

“…The apartment building is the plan?” Wonho asked, his mind totally blank.

“Yep.” Changkyun stood and, without explanation, walked between them and through the doorway.

Wonho turned mutely to Minhyuk, who seemed just as lost as he was, but after a moment’s deliberation he simply shrugged his shoulders and followed Changkyun down the hallway, Minhyuk not far behind.

 

\---

 

“This is insane,” Wonho said tiredly. “Brilliant, but insane.”

Changkyun had led them back to the shed where he deftly maneuvered a bucket of paint to stand on so that he could reach the very top shelf, awkwardly handing down an almost full five-gallon bucket of gasoline. The boys had gathered around the plastic container on the ground and now fell silent, each considering their new plan.

At nightfall, only a few hours away now, they would don their masks again and go to the apartment building where the new soldiers were staying. And light it on fire. Minhyuk would douse the outside of the building with half of the gasoline while Wonho crept inside to cover the main floor and the stairway with the other half. After they were both back out front, Changkyun would light a match and toss it onto a trail leading to the building before they all ran like hell to get clear.

They had unanimously decided to keep their plan between the three of them. Wonho felt bad for keeping such a volatile secret from the other boys, but knew that it was for the best. For now, at least. Wonho took a deep breath, exhaling sharply through his nose. Changkyun glanced at him, raising his eyebrows, but Wonho just shook his head. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision, Wonho looked at his friends and saw that they looked as tired as he felt.

“We have a few hours before the sun sets—we should all try to catch some sleep before we leave.”

“Good idea,” Changkyun agreed, yawning.

Wonho rolled his head, stretching his neck. The robbery seemed like it happened weeks ago instead of just this morning, and their day was far from over. He stood laboriously, helping first Minhyuk and then Changkyun to his feet.

“Go ahead and lay down, Minhyuk,” Wonho said, gently ruffling the other boy’s white hair. “We’ll be right behind you.”

“Okay,” he said in a very small voice. He didn’t leave right away, shuffling his feet in the dirt with his eyes lowered.

“Minhyuk?” Changkyun said softly, answering the question Wonho knew Minhyuk was afraid to ask. “It’s going to work.”

“I know, I just…” Minhyuk looked at them, tears in his eyes. “Thank you. Both of you. For helping me do this.” His voice was shaky, but he continued. “When I saw Hyungwon, I was so angry—I didn’t know what to do. I should have been here…”

“It’s not your fault,” Wonho interrupted. “None of us could have known that this would happen, and I know Hyungwon wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

At the mention of Hyungwon’s name, Minhyuk managed a half-smile. “He’s stubborn, that one. I’ll see you both in a few hours, then—we’ll meet back here?”

Changkyun nodded, “At sunset. That’ll give us enough time to get everything together before we head to the main square.”

“Sunset. Okay, see you then.”

Minhyuk gave them a halfhearted smile and then went inside. Wonho turned to Changkyun, who still had his eyes on the house, his brow furrowed in thought.

“You really think we can pull this off?” He hadn’t wanted to show any hesitation while Minhyuk was with them, but now he let his concern seep through his words.

“It’ll work,” Changkyun repeated, matching Wonho’s stare. “But I’m still worried about him.” He said it casually, but Wonho could see the concern in his eyes.

“Me too,” Wonho admitted. “We’ll keep an eye on him tonight.”

Wonho suddenly felt the weight of what they planned to do, guilt settling heavily in his chest. Robbing a bank seemed like a silly stunt compared to burning down a building full of people, and even the potential of anyone dying was a lot to carry. He figured that most of the soldiers would be on the ground level and would have a good chance of making it out, but it was still incredibly risky. It was one thing to talk in theory, but to actually go through with it…

“We should get some sleep, too,” Changkyun said, interrupting his reverie. “We’re going to need it.”

Wonho nodded firmly, throwing his arm around the young boy’s shoulders as they walked to the door. All they could do now was hope for the best.

 

\---

 

“Wonho, wake up—it’s time.”

Wonho’s eyes opened reluctantly, slowly focusing on Changkyun’s face leaning over him. The other boy looked grim, giving Wonho a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Okay,” he said groggily. “I’m up.”

Changkyun didn’t look convinced, but he nodded, standing up straight and moving towards the door.

“We leave in ten minutes. Minhyuk is already outside.” He paused, hand on the doorframe, “I don’t think he slept at all.”

Wonho grimaced, but Changkyun had already left the room. Sitting up, he tried rubbing the sleep from his eyes, blinking hard a few times to clear his vision. He had tossed and turned, too keyed up to get any decent sleep. He reached for his shoes, going over their plan in his head one more time. Standing, he made his way to the door and took a deep breath before silently slipping through the house and outside.

Minhyuk was pacing in front of the shed, looking extremely agitated. The other boy watched Wonho’s approach, his hair in even worse disarray than before. Changkyun was rummaging through the shed, so Wonho busied himself with taming Minhyuk’s hair enough for his hood to go and stay on.

“Minhyuk, can you carry the gasoline?” Changkyun walked over, matches in hand. “I’ve got the matches and I don’t want to accidentally light us on fire.”

His tone was light, but he looked exhausted. Wonho doubted that he’d gotten much sleep either. Looking around, Wonho went through his short mental checklist aloud.

“Gasoline?”

Minhyuk hefted the container, “Check.”

“Matches?”

“Check.” Changkyun held out the half-full book before putting them back in his pocket.

Satisfied, Wonho nodded and looked at the other two boys. They looked exhausted, and he probably did, too, but they were ready.

“There’s no going back from this,” Changkyun said gravely.

“There never was,” Minhyuk said bitterly. “Hyungwon’s father crossed that line for us.”

“I agree.” Wonho said carefully, fixing Minhyuk with a hard stare. “But we need to keep level heads. We’re all angry, but we can’t risk our plan by doing anything rash. Agreed?”

After a pause, Minhyuk nodded. Changkyun gave Wonho a firm nod along with a meaningful look meant to remind them of their conversation about Minhyuk earlier. Wonho took a deep, slow breath before nodding himself.

“Let’s go.”

 

\---

 

Wonho dropped to a crouch on the edge of the main square. The apartment building was dark, but there was enough moonlight for the boys to see. Mostly. On their way, they had crept down side streets and kept to the shadows, but it had slowed them down—it was roughly a twenty minute walk during the day, but it had taken them almost twice as long tonight. Wonho decided that the extra time had worked to their advantage, ensuring that most, if not all of the soldiers would be fast asleep.

Changkyun spoke from behind him, “We’re lucky the moon isn’t too bright tonight.”

“Lucky, yeah.” Minhyuk stammered.

Even in the near dark, Wonho could see that the other boy was a wreck. He remembered vaguely that when they were younger Minhyuk was deathly afraid of the dark, and he quickly moved to his side and groped for his hand which was clammy and shaking violently.

“It’s okay, Minhyuk. Breathe deeply, can you do that for me?”

“I’m not afraid of the dark,” he replied. It was a mantra Hyungwon had taught him, one that slowly calmed him now.

“That’s right, you’re not afraid of the dark.” Wonho looked over his shoulder at the vague form of Changkyun watching the apartment building. Giving Minhyuk’s hands a squeeze, he went over to sit by the younger boy. They were quiet for a minute, watching the silent building and listening to Minhyuk murmuring to himself. Wonho sighed quietly in relief when he heard the other boy’s chanting slow and then stop, and then smiled when he felt thin arms circle his waist from behind.

“Thank you, Wonho.” Minhyuk whispered simply, before joining him and Changkyun in their observation. Wonho ruffled the boy’s white hair, the bit of moonlight catching in its disarray, and grinned when he swatted back, trying to flatten his hair back down. _That_ was the Minhyuk he knew.

Changkyun broke their vigil a few minutes later, arranging himself so that they were in a circle. Well, a triangle.

“I think it’s as good a time as any,” he began, reaching out his arms to them in the dark until they were all holding hands. “Minhyuk, are you still okay to do your part?”

There was a pause, “Oh, right—yeah, I’m good to go.”

Wonho tried not to laugh, “You nodded, didn’t you.”

“…Maybe,” came the glum reply.

“Wonho?” Changkyun continued with a trace of a smile in his voice.

“Yep,” Wonho replied, “I’m still good.”

“Me too.” Changkyun concluded.

Wordlessly, the boys gathered their things and quietly padded across the square. As planned, Changkyun hung back with the matches while Minhyuk and Wonho crept towards the house. Wonho saw the outline of Minhyuk break away and head towards the far corner of the building before steeling himself and slipping inside.

The small main area was empty and silent except for the faint snores that drifted through the walls. He could see next to nothing, but he knew that a short corridor led off to his right with doors to the two rooms on this floor, and that to his left were stairs leading to the second floor with its four small rooms and the third floor which held two large rooms. The boys guessed that Hyungwon’s father would be staying on the top floor, taking advantage of his rank for the sake of square footage.

Wonho stepped to his left and headed silently for the stairwell, tracing his fingers along the wall for guidance. When he found the wall opening, he crouched, inching forward and slowly sweeping his hands along the floor. After a few moments, he felt the base of the first step and quickly oriented himself, climbing to the landing between floors 1 and 2. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask they had found in the shed—the original plan had him and Minhyuk each having half of the gasoline, but the flask was much smaller than they had planned for, leaving Wonho with maybe a third. He would have to be very strategic with his portion if their plan was to work.

Unscrewing the cap as quietly as he could, he hefted the flask carefully, trying to get a sense for how best to begin. Finally, he decided to just trust his instincts and hoped that it would be enough. He took a few steps down and swung his arm in a gentle arc to spread almost half of the flask’s contents along the landing. Their plan depended on the stairwell being impassable. Wonho’s mouth hardened to a grim line, pushing out any thoughts that weren’t immediately helping him empty the flask and get the hell out of this building.

Wonho focused on his measured breathing and kept his movements fluid and constant, a skill he had acquired when he first learned tai chi as a child. He had established but then fallen out of his routine within the last few years, but was grateful for his training now more than ever.

He made a thin trail of gasoline down the stairs and gathered himself on the threshold to the main room, willing himself not to bolt out the door so he could finish what he had started. Careful to keep his hand trailing lightly against the wall for reference, he focused on trying to splash just enough gasoline across the floor to hold a trail but not so much that he ran out before reaching the door.

Wonho was sweating by the time he reached the doorway, nerves frayed from focusing so hard on his movements while trying not to panic as the flask became lighter and lighter. He stepped through the door and closed it silently behind him, splashing the scarily small last bit of gasoline across the door itself. He quickly moved away from the house to where he could faintly see Changkyun pacing, thankful for the small amount of moonlight after the pitch black inside the building. Changkyun froze, unable to see Wonho clearly, but visibly relaxed when he heard his hushed voice.

“All set inside the house,” Wonho murmured just above a whisper, screwing the cap tightly back onto the flask and returning it to his pocket. “Where’s…”

“There he is,” Changkyun muttered wearily, pointing to the shadow of Minhyuk moving towards them. Hunched over and walking backwards, Minhyuk stopped twenty feet away from them, placing the empty container gingerly on the ground before joining them.

“The outside of the house is done. There wasn’t much gasoline left for the trail, but it’ll work.”

Changkyun fussed over them in hushed tones, “Are you sure? Did you get any on your clothes? How much…”

Minhyuk gripped the frantic boy’s shoulders. “Changkyun. We’re fine. It all went exactly as we planned. Wonho, tell him everything went fine.”

“Everything went fine,” Wonho parroted, glad that Minhyuk was calming Changkyun down. He swayed on his feet but willed himself upright, trying to hold on to his adrenaline just a little longer.

Changkyun, subdued now, took two steps forward. “When I light this match, I want you both to start running in case gasoline accidentally got on your clothing. I’ll wait for three seconds before I throw it and then I’ll be right behind you—we maybe have twenty seconds to clear the square and be hidden. Got it?”

“Yes,” Wonho chorused with Minhyuk, both ready to run.

Changkyun turned, took a quiet breath, and lit the match.

Wonho obediently took off running, refusing to look behind him. Minhyuk matched him stride for stride. After the longest three seconds of his life, Wonho felt more than heard a great _WHOOSH_ followed by a steadily growing ambient light. Skidding into a side street Wonho whipped around just in time to see a fast-approaching Changkyun silhouetted against a blanket of fire engulfing the building. So fast that he almost missed it, he saw the fire snake under the door and follow his trail to the landing where the resulting fireball blew out the stairwell windows.

The three boys stood together, still trying to catch their breath but with all eyes fixed on the blaze. Wonho let himself watch the burning apartments for a few long moments before pulling at Changkyun and Minhyuk to go. He didn’t want them anywhere near this place when the other soldiers arrived, and by the looks on his friends’ faces they had reached similar conclusions. Wonho gave one last look to the raging fire before turning away, knowing that this night had irrevocably changed them—for better or for worse.

They ran.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the updated tags for warnings

Hyungwon crawled to a corner of the attic and pressed his back against the interconnecting walls, drawing his knees to his chest and trying to calm his hiccupping breaths. He could still feel the ghost of Minhyuk’s kiss against his swollen lips and tried to focus on that through the haze of emotion still palpable in the small room. He had seen Minhyuk angry before, especially where his father was concerned, but nothing like this. The boy’s chilling words still sent shivers down his spine.

_He will never hurt you again._

Hyungwon pushed the memory to the back of his mind, wrapping his arms tightly around his legs and resting his cheek on his knees. He knew he should have told Minhyuk about being attacked by his father’s soldiers sooner—the lame excuses he had practiced and then fumbled through still rang in his ears and had only served to make Minhyuk angrier, and remembering the hurt on the boy’s face threatened to start him crying again.

He stood painfully, slinking to the bathroom and quietly locking the door behind him. He ran water over his shaking hands, gasping when the cold bit into his grazed palms. Looking in the mirror, he flinched at the darkening bruises—he traced the planes of his face with his fingertips, flashbacks of that night dancing across his blurred vision.

 

\---

 

Walking back from the fountain, Hyungwon found himself watching the stars. It was a cloudless night with a quarter moon, and with the town mostly sleeping the stars shone like diamonds.

“Hey, fairy boy.”

The voice startled him, the man it belonged to materializing out of the shadows and stalking towards him. Even in the darkness, he could make out his military uniform, the scant moonlight glinting cruelly off of the polished brass buttons. He stumbled back and into another soldier who pushed him roughly. Managing to keep his balance, he whipped around and saw two more men in uniform sneering back at him. Frantically spinning to face the three soldiers, he recognized them as part of the patrol the boys had met under the bridge.

“Awfully late for a kid like you to be out,” the first soldier said. “Especially all alone. What if something were to happen to you?” The other two laughed, one of them jostling Hyungwon again.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble.” Hyungwon’s voice shook as he tried to reason with the soldiers. “I just went for a walk—just let me get home and I won’t stay out again, I swear…”

“Probably a good call,” the first soldier interrupted mockingly. “It gets dangerous at night. As public servants we try our very best to keep these streets safe, but even we can’t guarantee every citizen’s safety.”

The others snickered and Hyungwon’s hope rapidly vanished. Panicking, he tried to bolt but the soldiers grabbed his shirt, easily spinning him back to the center of the circle. The first soldier kicked out at his knees and Hyungwon cried out, falling heavily on his hands. He was roughly kicked in his side, left sprawling and gasping for breath.

Leaning over him, the first soldier said, “You know, I was hoping we’d get more of a fight out of you.” He placed his foot on Hyungwon’s wrist and began steadily shifting his weight onto the joint. “I should have known better.”

The soldier drew himself up and brought his full weight down to stomp on Hyungwon’s wrist. Hyungwon screamed, but another vicious kick to the ribs stole the breath from his lungs. Reduced to wheezing, he tried calling for help but only managed a few rasping pleas that did not move the soldiers.

Straddling him, the first soldier placed his hands around Hyungwon’s neck and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, the weight cutting off his airway.

“It’s okay, fairy boy. We’re not going to kill you.” His breath smelled like pipe tobacco and whiskey, making Hyungwon’s stomach heave. “We’re just going to mess up your pretty little face a bit—maybe then your _boyfriend_ ,” he spoke the word like it was a curse, “will finally see you for what you are: a weak little brat with no respect for his father.” On the verge of blacking out, the soldier eased up on Hyungwon’s throat just enough for him to draw a few ragged breaths. “Do you think he’ll love you then?”

Using what little air he had in his screaming lungs, Hyungwon spat in the soldier’s face.

His expression contorted by rage, the soldier bared his teeth. “You’re going to regret that, fairy boy.” Grinning wickedly, he raised his fist. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

 

\---

 

Hyungwon shook himself from his reverie, glaring at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. Remembering how defenseless he had been with the soldiers made his face burn with shame—he had never been brave like Shownu or fearless like Jooheon, but he hadn’t considered himself helpless until that night. He scrutinized the boy staring back at him from the mirror, taking in the bruises covering the familiar slopes of his cheeks, the split in his lips, his enormous eyes ringed in red from crying. Delicate—that’s how his features had always been described, and he found himself resenting that word. _Delicate. Helpless._

Leaning against the sink, Hyungwon hung his head, conjuring a mental image of Minhyuk—laughing, smiling, strong—his Minhyuk. The boy who had stormed out of his room with fury twisting his features was a different Minhyuk and Hyungwon was ashamed that he had caused that change.

Hyungwon pulled himself upright, avoiding his reflection and going to the bathtub. He turned the faucet on and mindlessly let the water run over his slender fingers to slowly fill the tub, looking around as he did so. Grandfather had brought some of his newest Otherworld flowers inside where they awaited spring— every year the new plants were kept inside to grow strong before joining the garden and Hyungwon always loved watching the plants learn to thrive, imagining that their sprouting leaves and blooming flowers were acts of bravery.

Turning the faucet off, Hyungwon eased himself into the tub still fully clothed. He didn’t even want to think about the bruises that must be forming over the rest of his body. Letting the chill of the water numb his aching muscles, he closed his eyes and leaned the back of his head against the side of the tub.

 

\---

 

Hyungwon fumbled with the doorknob of the orphanage’s front door, cradling his hurt wrist against his chest while willing his other hand to stop shaking. All at once the handle turned and he fell through the doorway, landing in a heap just past the threshold and knocking over the small table that stood by the door. Hyungwon weakly kicked his legs, trying to stand but unable to. The crash brought Shownu running into the hallway and in an instant he was at Hyungwon’s side, smoothing back his hair and calling for Jooheon and Wonho.

Barely conscious, Hyungwon started crying—he had wanted to make it to his room without the other boys seeing him, and now dissolved into barely coherent pleas.

“Please don’t tell Minhyuk, please, he can’t know about this, please don’t tell Minhyuk…” his body was wracked with sobs, shaking in pain and overwhelmed by embarrassment. It was bad enough that the soldiers had seen him vulnerable, made him vulnerable, and now his friends had to see him like this. Unable to form the words he needed, Hyungwon feebly tried pushing Shownu away but the older boy only held him tighter, shushing him and looking him over to assess how badly he was hurt. He didn’t want to imagine what he must look like, so he hid his face in Shownu’s shirt as Jooheon and Wonho came tearing into the hallway.

“Oh my god,” Jooheon gasped, covering his mouth and rushing to kneel beside Shownu. “What happened?”

Shownu shook his head, “I have no idea, but we’re going to have to wait to find out. Wonho, help me carry him. Jooheon, get ice and the first aid kit and meet us in his room.”

The boys lifted Hyungwon as carefully as they could, but he still had to stifle a scream as they carried him to his room. Gently laying him down, Hyungwon instinctively tried to curl into a ball and grasped at his sheets to cover himself with. Shownu tried to calm him until Jooheon got there, managing to coax him into stretching out enough for them to get ice on the worst of his injuries, and trying to piece together what had happened. Hyungwon couldn’t latch on to any one thought for very long and could only answer sporadically, all the while begging them not to tell Minhyuk.

“You have to let me tell him, you have to—please don’t tell him, _please don’t tell Minhyuk_ …”

At some point, Changkyun brought him tea to keep off the chill of the makeshift ice packs and to calm him enough to sleep. After the boys had sworn not to tell Minhyuk until he was ready, Hyungwon allowed himself to sip at the tea. Exhaustion quickly overcame his dwindling panic, and the last thing he remembered was Shownu tucking him in and promising that he wouldn’t be alone that night before everything faded to black.

 

\---

 

Hyungwon slipped his head under the water for a few seconds before sitting back up, the shocking cold bringing him back to the present. He gently scrubbed at his face, massaging the bruises and giving his hands something to do.

He slid back under the water and held his breath, the cold water soothing. He idly remembered that years ago he had been in this same bathtub, him and Minhyuk in their summer clothes sitting in the water with their knees touching to ward off the heat of a summer afternoon. He had told Minhyuk that he could hold his breath for a long time, and had held himself underwater to prove it. After almost a minute, he had emerged gasping for breath as Minhyuk nervously exhaled—apparently the other boy had tried holding his breath too, but couldn’t last as long as Hyungwon had. They had laughed it off and then talked for hours. Even then they had never run out of things to talk about, comfortable with each other in a way that Hyungwon wasn’t with any of the other boys. Since then, Hyungwon had grown much closer with the rest of his family but his bond with Minhyuk had remained the strongest and led to the relationship they had today.

Hyungwon’s smile faltered, remembering how angry Minhyuk had been with him earlier. He loved Minhyuk so desperately, and his heart hurt thinking about the horrified look on Minhyuk’s face. _Dammit Hyungwon, why didn’t you tell me?_ Tears burned in his eyes at how sharply Minhyuk had spoken.

“Because I was afraid,” Hyungwon whispered the words he had wanted to say to the empty room. They sounded so meaningless now—it didn’t matter that they were the honest truth, just that they further proved how weak he really was.

He submerged his head in the bathwater again, letting the water muffle the silence that rang in his ears. Coming up for air, Hyungwon realized he was shivering—he must have been laying in the tub much longer than he realized. He started to pull himself up, but his hands slipped and he came crashing back into the water, the back of his head slamming into the hard lip of the tub. He was left spluttering and shaking from more than just the cold, frustrated that he couldn’t even get out of a tub correctly. He hit the surface of the water with his fists, sending droplets flying everywhere. Tentatively, he reached to touch the back of his head and his fingers came away with blood on them but he didn’t feel any pain, probably because of how cold he was.

Hyungwon guessed that he had managed to give himself a concussion about the same time he realized that he wasn’t really shivering anymore. He felt himself frown but it was sluggish, almost like the expression didn’t belong to him. Vaguely, he remembered being told once that if a person is very cold but not shivering they were fast approaching hypothermia, but that was silly because it was the middle of summer—people don’t get hypothermia in the summer.

Feeling light-headed, he turned slightly so he could rest his cheek against the tub without putting pressure on the gash on the back of his head. He couldn’t seem to do _anything_ right. A wave of hopelessness settled on him like a heavy blanket, and he wished that his friends didn’t have to always take care of him—it wasn’t fair that they…

A thought floated into Hyungwon’s head. _What if they didn’t have to anymore?_

He mulled it over slowly, his thoughts clumsy and desperate—he reasoned that with his probable concussion combined with the threat of hypothermia he would need to get out of the water very soon, but…

Traitorous thoughts swarmed into his already fuzzy head, and an idea painful in its clarity made his entire body go absolutely still.

_They would never have to know._

It would look like he had fallen and hit his head, that he had simply lost consciousness and slipped beneath the water. It would seem like an accident and then they wouldn’t have to keep taking care of him, rescuing him from situations that only _he_ would need rescuing from. It would be so easy…

“They would never have to know,” he whispered, the words fumbling through his frozen lips.

Hyungwon slid down the edge of the tub, propping up his long legs so that he could be submerged from the shoulders down. Hot tears sprang to his eyes, but they were of resignation rather than regret. His family would be fine without him—they would grieve, but then they would move on, their lives ultimately made easier without having to be constantly looking out for him.

His heart skipped a beat when he thought of Minhyuk—they loved each other, but the other boy deserved someone more independent, someone who could take care of himself and protect Minhyuk if he needed to—Minhyuk deserved that and so much more. Making a small whimpering noise, Hyungwon’s whisper barely reached his own ears.

“I love you, Minhyuk—I’m so sorry.”

Hyungwon let himself sink below the water, closing his eyes and drifting off, his last thoughts bright with Minhyuk’s smiling face. _His Minhyuk_.


	10. Chapter 10

Shownu skidded to a halt in front of the hospital, stopping to catch his breath. He had run straight from the robbery and hadn’t stopped for any breaks—the duffel bag felt like it had doubled in weight and his muscles were cramping from his strenuous pace, but he hadn’t dared slow down. He hastily picked a few Otherworld flowers, hoping that to anyone who passed it would look like he was just bringing Grandfather a care package and flowers rather than a duffel bag full of stolen money and flowers. Taking a deep breath and composing himself, Shownu strode confidently through the front doors.

Walking quickly, Shownu made his way to Grandfather’s room, hefting the duffel bag nervously. The door was standing open so he slipped inside and pulled it shut behind him, careful to close it quietly.

“Grandfather!” he said, turning around with a smile, “We…”

Shownu’s breath caught in his throat—the bed was empty, a stack of neatly folded clothes where Grandfather should have been. He hesitantly placed the flowers on the blankets, his mind refusing to process what he was seeing. Shownu’s mind raced through reasons why Grandfather might be out of his bed, but even as his explanations were forming, his eyes filled with tears. Grandfather wasn’t just missing from his room—he was gone.

They had been too late.

 

\---

 

Shownu went to set the duffel bag on the bed but faltered, the useless money spilling onto the empty bed. He tried being angry—with the nurse for giving him the hope of a few days, with himself for not making it in time—but he just felt empty, a hole in his chest where his heart should have been. He picked up the Otherworld flowers, staring at them blankly. Grandfather would never know that they had found Shidae, or that they had successfully made it through the ritual and were now a clan. The X-Clan. All of the words he wished he could say echoed so loudly in his head that he couldn’t think.

He wasn’t ready to be a leader, no matter what Shidae had said. The boys trusted him, but how was he supposed to lead them? He was just a kid! He needed Grandfather’s advice because he had no fucking idea what he was supposed to do next. He needed Grandfather to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he would help them learn about the powers they had now and how to control them. He couldn’t do this all by himself. He needed Grandfather’s help— _he needed more time_.

Shownu leaned on the bed for support, feeling faint from lack of sleep and the overwhelming sense of loss threatening to drown him. He gasped for air and closed his eyes, willing his racing pulse to slow down enough for him to breathe normally. The spots swarming across his vision eventually subsided and Shownu hung his head, feeling truly lost.

He felt his vial of elixir sitting heavily in his pocket. He pulled it out along with a book of matches he had forgotten was there. Impulsively, he lit one of the matches and tossed it on the bed—the money quickly caught fire, spreading across the stack of clothes and to the duffel bag until all of it was in flames. The money felt cursed, and as Shownu watched it burn he felt a dark satisfaction—it had been meant for Grandfather, and now it couldn’t be used for anything else.

Tossing the remaining matches into the blaze for good measure, Shownu held up the vial and watched the light from the fire dancing through the blue liquid. In the Kiform ritual, they had been brought close to the spirit world and given guidance by the old shamans so that they might complete it successfully. Shidae had said that no ordinary person could be reached after passing on, but Grandfather had been a clan member—surely that made him more than ordinary?

Shownu carefully uncapped the vial, remembering Shidae’s warning about ‘going bad’ as he stared at the elixir. A small voice of reason knew that calling Grandfather’s spirit back when his was a natural death would be going against the natural order of things, but if the power of the Otherworld flowers could even possibly connect Shownu to the spirit world and he could talk with Grandfather one last time…

In his grief, Shownu decided that he had to take that risk. He upended the vial and drank the elixir, its bitter taste the last thing he remembered before everything went black


	11. Chapter 11

Minhyuk, Changkyun and Wonho ran inside the orphanage, hastily pulling the door shut behind them with a slam that made Minhyuk wince. They had run all of the way home, sacrificing stealth for speed so that they would be as far from the soldiers’ quarters as possible by the time any authorities arrived. Minhyuk tried not to think too hard about the soldiers, only hoping that they had done enough to ensure the General couldn’t get out.

“What are you going to tell Hyungwon?” Wonho asked tentatively once he had caught his breath.

“The truth,” Minhyuk said darkly. “That his sorry excuse for a father can’t hurt him anymore.”

Wonho looked at his feet, lost for words, and Changkyun studied Minhyuk seriously. He gave the younger boy a stony look in return, not wanting to dwell on the consequences of what they had done right now.

“I’m going to go find Hyungwon,” he told them. He was met with silence so he spun on his heel and headed to Hyungwon’s room to have a very difficult conversation

 

\---

 

Minhyuk tore through the house, desperately searching for Hyungwon. The other boy hadn’t been in his room, and as he checked the rest of the orphanage to no avail he became increasingly frantic. The great room, the kitchen, the attic, the other bedrooms—there was no sign of Hyungwon anywhere. Minhyuk worried that Hyungwon had left the orphanage and would be attacked by more soldiers, that they had figured out who had started the fire and had come seeking revenge. His mind racing, he began shouting Hyungwon’s name but received no reply.

The last room in the house was the bathroom, so he ran and knocked on the door, calling for Hyungwon and trying to keep his voice from becoming too shrill. When no one responded, he tried the doorknob but found it was locked. He fell silent as an uneasy feeling crept up his spine—the door only locked from the inside.

After years of the boys accidentally locking themselves out or purposefully locking themselves in the bathroom, Grandfather had shown them all how to pick the lock. After finding the tools he needed, Minhyuk had the door open in a matter of seconds. He hesitated at the threshold, the feeling of unease transforming into a dread he couldn’t explain. Urging himself to take the few steps it took to see the whole of the bathroom, Minhyuk gasped and rushed inside. He found Hyungwon there, laying completely still in the bathtub.

He wasn’t breathing.

“No, no, no, no,” Minhyuk said under his breath, repeating it until it didn’t sound like a word anymore. His stomach lurched as he knelt by the bathtub and he barely whispered, “Hyungwon, no. Please. Please don’t leave me.”

Nervously smoothing Hyungwon’s hair away from his face, Minhyuk’s mind grasped for an explanation of why,  _ how _ , this could have happened. All he could come up with was that Hyungwon had been trying to calm his battered body after being attacked by his father’s soldiers—Minhyuk hadn’t gotten a chance to see the full extent of his injuries, but knew they were severe. He carefully tilted Hyungwon’s head and saw that there was half-dried blood on the lip of the tub, leading him to believe that the other boy had fallen while trying to get out.

Minhyuk choked back a sob, cupping Hyungwon’s cheek tenderly. This wasn’t right—Hyungwon couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t. He looked around the room, packed with Grandfather’s new Otherworld plants, and the faint glimmer of an idea sparked in his mind. He thought back to what Shidae had said about the Otherworld flowers, trying to remember their powers and limitations. People who died of natural causes, like sickness or old age, traveled directly and peacefully to the spirit world. Hyungwon’s death was unnatural, he left this world before his time which went against the natural order of things, and so his spirit could still be inbetween worlds. Minhyuk dared to hope that maybe he could try to bring him back, if only… He wracked his brain for any faults in his logic, trying not to let his distress cloud his judgment. He thought back to the ritual and how they had communicated with the old shamans by carefully mapping their intents and focusing their energies, using the intentions as a channel of sorts.

Minhyuk forced himself to concentrate and pushed the whirlwind of his emotions to the back of his mind. Time was a luxury he didn’t have as Hyungwon’s spirit was traveling farther away from him with every passing second, but he would only have this one chance—he had to do it right. Thinking quickly, he knew he would need to use his own energy and take some from Hyungwon in turn, assuming that he could somehow draw any lingering energy from the other boy. Glancing at the Otherworld flowers around him, he decided to add some of their energy to the mix—he would just have to be careful not to take too much from the young plants. He closed his eyes, making his intent as specific as possible and hoped he was making the right decision. He looked down at his vial of elixir, shakily taking off the cap before looking back at Hyungwon.

“I love you, Hyungwon,” he whispered.

With the Otherworld flowers as his witness, Minhyuk poured the contents of the vial into the bathwater and carefully climbed into the tub with Hyungwon, reasoning that if it worked— _ when it works _ , he corrected himself firmly—he could keep the other boy from panicking and hurting himself any worse than he already was. If he was honest with himself, though, he mostly just wanted to be near Hyungwon no matter the outcome. He was the love of his life and his best friend, and Minhyuk couldn’t imagine life without him. Minhyuk kissed Hyungwon lightly on the lips and reached for his hand, holding it tightly and willing the energies in the room to flow where he needed them to. He felt like an electric current was running through his body that made his muscles spasm slightly, an echo compared to his experience during the Kiform ritual, but still an unfamiliar sensation.

Minhyuk felt himself losing consciousness, but was determined to hold onto his control over the channels of power for as long as he could. Black pressed relentlessly against the edges of his vision, and just before fading completely he imagined that he felt Hyungwon’s hand slowly close around his.


	12. Chapter 12

Kihyun closed his notebook and leaned back into the too-soft pillows on his hospital bed. He was bored—his knees were healing from the surgery very well, and his physical therapy was coming along nicely, but for the majority of the day he had to stay in bed and it was driving him crazy. Minhyuk had left the day before, and although he offered to stay, Kihyun had sent him home because of how maddeningly restless he was getting. He obviously missed Hyungwon, and Kihyun hadn’t wanted to keep them apart. He missed the company, though.

He wished Changkyun was there with him. Kihyun loved having the quiet boy around, he was easy to talk to and a great friend. And he was really cute, which didn’t hurt. Kihyun smiled, glad he and Changkyun had gotten to spend so much time together during their visit with Shidae. He liked Changkyun, a lot if he was being honest with himself, and hoped that when everything settled down that he could find the courage to act on it.

He heard a soft knocking on his door and looked up to see a nurse smiling at him from the doorway. She came inside and settled herself into the chair next to the bed, probably to check on how his recovery was coming along. Again. Kihyun wasn’t sure if every patient was visited by their nurses as often as he was, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was flirting with a gay guy.

“How are you holding up, sweetie?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

“Very well, thank you,” he replied respectfully. He didn’t want to be rude, but hoped that he wasn’t sending her mixed signals, either.

“You’re progressing quickly, ahead of schedule even—you’ll be out of here before you know it. You can always come back for a visit, though.” She winked and Kihyun wanted to laugh or roll his eyes but did neither, willing himself to smile neutrally.

“That’s great news,” he said. “Thank you for letting me know.”

He heard a commotion outside and saw men in soldiers’ uniforms running through the hall, flashes of black seen through the narrow doorway. Before he could ask the nurse what was going on, she rushed into the corridor and he heard her shouting for everyone to remain calm. Kihyun frowned and, before he could change his mind, he reached for the crutches leaning against the bed. He slipped his arms through the braces and gripped the handles tightly, easing out of his bed the way his physical therapist had taught him. Once on his feet, he carefully walked to the doorway, keeping as much of his weight on the crutches as he could. His knees complained a bit, but his curiosity drove him forward.

The hallway was in chaos, nurses and doctors scrambling to keep patients in their rooms. Soldiers were swarming the halls, yelling and pushing their way towards the exits through frantic tangles of people. Kihyun shrank against the doorframe, his heart racing—what the _hell_ was going on?

He felt, rather than heard, the first bomb go off.

 

\---

 

Everyone was screaming and pelting through the halls, any hope of order vanishing with the fleeing crowd. Kihyun swore softly—he could barely walk, let alone keep pace with the terrified people streaming past him. Deciding that staying put was no longer an option, he walked down the hallway pressed against the wall, managing to avoid being jostled too badly.

He slipped outside and hurried off to the side of the street so that he could figure out what to do next. The crutches were even more awkward now that he was outside—they were meant for smooth hospital floors, not cracking pavement and dirt—and Kihyun’s hands were starting to shake. He carefully maneuvered further down the street and sat on a low garden wall, grateful to be off his feet. He looked back at the hospital grimly—there was a blackened hole in the far wing of the hospital and he hoped everyone had made it out okay.

With a start, Kihyun realized that there was a distinct lack of soldiers—the ones running through the hospital must have taken off, which seemed like a very bad sign. He felt the ground rumble and he looked around, trying to find its source. Sure enough there was a plume of smoke rising from the south. It was relatively far away, so the detonated bomb must have been powerful to have felt the impact at this distance. Kihyun felt a small thought nagging at the back of his mind, but couldn’t figure out what it was as he scanned the crowd and struggled to figure out some plan of action. Kihyun weighed his options, trying to block out the noise of the crowd so he could think.

He obviously couldn’t go back into the hospital, considering _a bomb_ had gone off inside. His face fell when he remembered all of his notebooks sitting in his room—they weren’t important in the grand scheme of things, just a collection of thoughts and doodles, but they were important to _him_. Forcing the disappointment out of his mind, he focused on his immediate situation.

He couldn’t stay where he was. Besides the panicked people still milling around and the lack of a place to go, the sun was setting and he had to be off the streets before curfew. Which left going back to the orphanage—he grimaced just thinking about how long it would take to get back and how sore his knees would be by the time he got there. With a sigh, he gripped his crutches tightly and pushed himself to his feet. He figured that if he stuck to major city streets, it would bring him south without having to double back too…

Kihyun froze. _South_. The orphanage was south of here, directly in line with where the last bomb had gone off. As if summoned by the thought, a third bomb went off even further south than before.

“Oh my god,” he whispered.

Kihyun thought of the other boys, his family, in the orphanage with no idea of what was heading their way. He took a few lurching steps, propelling himself forward in an awkward loping gait. He cursed his stupid legs, knowing he wouldn’t make it in time but that he still had to try.

Ash from the second explosion had begun to fall, landing in his hair and steadily coating the street. Feeling helpless, he let out a frustrated cry and angrily threw his crutches aside, willing his legs to carry his weight as he broke into the closest thing to a run that he could manage.

Kihyun gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain in his legs, using it to block out the horrible thoughts about the other boys swarming around in his head. He couldn’t lose them, he just couldn’t. His family was his everything and if he didn’t have that anymore, he would be devastated and confused and more alone than he’d ever been—he would be lost.


	13. Epilogue

General Won woke to the sound of his men screaming. His eyes snapped open and he saw smoke pushing its way under his door. He quickly drew the collar of his shirt over his nose and mouth, breathing shallowly and trying to form a plan. He could plan his way out of almost anything—his logic and ambition were how he had reached and then maintained his military position, a fact he was quite proud of.

Sliding to the floor to be under the worst of the smoke, he saw that flames had begun to lap at the door to his room. That the fire had made it to his door meant that the stairway had been compromised and would be useless to him. Maintaining his composure, he considered the small window by his bed. He was too far above the ground for a clean drop, but he’d rather break an ankle than die from smoke inhalation or being burned alive.

Just as he was about to begin executing his series of steps to make it outside safely, if injured, two men in gas masks broke down the door to his room. They were clad in black, but not the military-issued uniforms his men wore, which was unsettling but not enough for him to lose his head. He narrowed his eyes at the two men in open distrust, but either they didn’t notice or couldn’t be bothered because they roughly pulled him to his feet and pushed him out into the hall. As he had suspected, the stairwell was compromised and burning intensely—this was an arson fire started by some sort of flammable catalyst, he reasoned idly, most likely gasoline.

The non-military men herded him past the stairwell and, much to his surprise, pushed him out of the hall window without pause. He fell into an undignified heap, but at least he hadn’t broken anything. The two men quickly followed, landing easily and then dragging him roughly away from the burning building to where a group of very stern-looking people stood, arms crossed and in a sloppy formation behind who must be their commanding officer. General Won would not be bullied by whoever this man was and shook his arms free from the two who had been dragging him along. With a glare his men had learned to fear, he rounded on the group with his chin held high and his spine held ramrod-straight.

“What in God’s name is going on here? Are these your men? Do you have any idea who—“

“Who you are?” the man interrupted lazily. His voice was incredibly deep, indifferent in an almost inhuman way. “I don’t really care who you are, just who you know. There’s a local boy, Hyungwon—he’s your son, yes?”

The General spluttered, “What…well, yes, but how…”

“And I suppose  _ you _ didn’t give him any reason to be unusually partial to Otherworld flowers. Weeds to many but treasures to few… I believe your son and the boys he travels with have joined the ranks of the enlightened few.” The man spoke dreamily, but the General didn’t believe for one second that this man wasn’t dangerous and kept his guard up.

“I don’t know what you’re raving on about,” the General said angrily, putting the full force of his accustomed power into his voice, but he was smoothly interrupted again.

“I believe you are missing my point, General. Your son, it seems, has been dabbling in matters that are of interest to me,” the man practically purred. “I would very much like to speak with him and, being his father, you will be very helpful in… encouraging conversation. Tell me, General,” he said, grinning wickedly, “have you ever been on the  _ wrong _ side of an interrogation?”

General Won felt chills rocket along his spine but said nothing, staring straight ahead and forcing his shaking knees to keep holding him upright. The man waved his hand dismissively and he was led into an unassuming building and locked in a dark, windowless room. Only when he heard the door’s deadbolt engage with a loud metallic clang did he allow himself to collapse, pushing himself into the corner of the room and trying to calm his ragged breathing. What on earth had Hyungwon done to get mixed up with a man like this?

The General sighed bitterly. Whatever information this man was hoping to gain would not be persuaded from Hyungwon by his presence. The boy hated him, he and his  _ friends _ would probably welcome his torture. Still, he began formulating a way out of this, for himself and his son. He’d be damned if this psychopath got what he wanted, even if it was just about some ridiculous weeds, and spent the night planning. Planning was what he did best—it had gotten him this far and would get him through whatever came next.

“I hope you and your friends know what you’re doing, Hyungwon,” he whispered to the empty room. “For all our sakes.”


	14. Chapter 14

Jooheon carefully pulled the curtains covering the unfamiliar front window aside and saw that ash was still falling from the last bomb that had gone off maybe twenty minutes earlier. He thought it was sad that this had become an ordinary sight to wake up to, the last month having turned everything the boys knew upside down.

Three weeks ago, Kihyun had miraculously made it back to the orphanage on his newly healing legs to warn them of the series of bombs that were steadily approaching the orphanage. The boys had been panicked and unsure of what to do and so Shownu had herded them into the kitchen, one of the few central rooms with no windows. It had been terrifying, hearing muffled explosions and feeling the vibrations through the floor and walls, but they had managed to stay put during the hour it took for the barrage to settle. They had talked in hushed voices and flinched every time another bomb detonated, but now it had become a part of life.

Jooheon frowned, pulling himself back into the present—worrying wasn’t going to get them anywhere. Behind him, Shownu knocked on the wall of the hallway to let Jooheon know he was there before joining him at the window to watch the silently falling ash. There were dark circles under Shownu’s eyes, which had a haunted look to them that Jooheon knew he couldn’t do anything about.

“I think we have everything together,” Shownu said quietly, looking at the floor miserably.

“Okay,” Jooheon replied half-heartedly. “Give me a minute and I’ll meet you guys in the kitchen.”

Shownu lingered for a moment, seeming like he might say something, but turned to leave without a word. Jooheon glanced outside one more time before letting the curtain fall back into place. He waited in the hallway for a few minutes, needing some time alone before they left this town for good.

The bombings certainly explained the rapid influx of soldiers that had started a few months earlier, but it was a mystery as to who was behind the attacks or what they wanted. During the rare outings the boys had made in pairs, they learned through snatches of gossip that people dressed as soldiers had been methodically searching streets and houses for something that they still hadn’t found yet. No one was sure what that something was, but the townspeople spent a lot of effort making sure that they were out of the soldiers’ way.

With a sigh, Jooheon walked to the small kitchen, his heart aching for the familiarity of the orphanage that they had been forced to leave behind. All of the boys were there, dressed in stolen white soldiers’ uniforms and carrying scavenged rifles. Roaming between random abandoned houses, the boys had been essentially homeless for weeks and it was taking its toll on their morale—Jooheon knew that this last-ditch effort was their only chance to make it out of the ravaged town and he hoped that everyone could muster up the determination they would need if they were to succeed.

Shownu nodded to Jooheon and addressed them all tiredly. “Alright, boys—it’s time.”

Everyone was quiet except for a nervous shuffling, too subdued to manage much else. Without a word, they filed towards the door and slipped silently outside. This last house was close to the outskirts of town, only a few minutes from their bridge and the forest beyond. In their weeks of careful planning for their escape from the oppressive monitoring of the constant patrols, the boys decided to seek out Shidae at his mountain home and regroup from there. It was a vague place to start, but Jooheon knew that they desperately needed to get out of town before it was completely decimated.

Ash covered everything, muffling all noise into an unnatural quiet. Jooheon glanced over his shoulder and saw their starkly obvious footsteps carving a way through the thick carpeting of ash, which would make it incredibly easy for soldiers to spot them. Jooheon clenched his jaw and mentally urged the boys to move quickly, willing to accept the risk of being followed as long as they made it out of town before it was noticed. They arrived at the bridge, their footsteps echoing on the hard ground that was untouched from the falling ash, and they hurried through the archway. Jooheon heard a small cry of surprise from Minhyuk behind him and turned to see that Hyungwon had stumbled from exhaustion, his worn-out body struggling to keep up. Minhyuk glanced up at Jooheon grimly and motioned for Jooheon to go on.

“He’ll be okay, I’ve got this. We’ll be right behind you.” Without waiting for a response, the white haired boy reached into his pack and pulled out a spray of Otherworld flowers, coaxing Hyungwon’s mouth open so that he could chew on the petals. It was a crude transfer of energy, but a necessary one considering how drained they were already. Jooheon hesitated for a moment longer, but decided to trust Minhyuk and went to catch up with the others.

 

\---

 

At the base of the mountain, the boys stopped briefly for a break, needing the rest after their strenuous pace. They had made excellent time and everyone seemed to be a little more relaxed having distanced themselves from their ruined hometown. Minhyuk and Hyungwon had caught up quickly after the incident under the bridge and were standing together under a nearby tree, lost in murmured conversation. Kihyun and Changkyun were sitting against some large rocks and talking with Wonho, their eyes looking clearer than they had in days. Kihyun’s legs had healed remarkably well considering how much strain had been put on them so soon after his surgery, and he and Changkyun had become even closer than before. Jooheon was proud that his family had made it this far considering all they had been through together, but that didn’t make their situation any less dire.

Shownu wandered over, his backpack settled onto his shoulders again. “Our tracks in the ash will be easy to follow,” he said, echoing Jooheon’s thoughts from earlier. “I think we set a good pace, though. Hopefully they won’t be able to follow us all of the way to Shidae and we’ll have some time to figure out what to do next.”

Jooheon nodded tiredly, not sure what he should say and so opting to say nothing. Shownu rested his hand on his shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze before rounding everyone back up. Changkyun stepped to the front and led them along the deer path just as he had when they first sought out Shidae, what felt like lifetimes ago. They followed the twists and turns until they finally found the clearing, still crowded with Otherworld flowers, and made their way to Shidae’s home. Shownu walked up to the front door just as he had last time, but even before he could knock Jooheon knew that the house was empty.

Shownu knocked twice, three times, with no answer before walking back down the steps dejectedly. Their plan had been cut short, their haven swept out from underneath them. The heavy silence rang with the question no one wanted to ask: _Now what?_

“Now what?” Minhyuk asked finally, holding Hyungwon’s hand and bouncing his leg nervously.

“I…” Shownu scrambled for words, hanging his head, “I don’t know.”

“Well we can’t go back to town,” Wonho reasoned, sitting on the steps of Shidae’s porch and resting his chin in his hands. “And with Shidae gone we can’t stay with him, so…what _can_ we do?”

“We have to go further into the mountains,” Changkyun said firmly, looking boldly at each of them. “I bet that’s where Shidae went, to find the old clans.”

“We don’t know if there _are_ clans anymore,” Wonho argued. “And even if there are, we can’t just wander through the mountains hoping to find people who most likely don’t want to be found.”

“I know it sounds far-fetched,” Changkyun replied, quieter than before. “But if there’s even a chance I think we should try.”

“What if we stay here?” Jooheon interjected suddenly, the idea forming in his head as he spoke. “We can crash here at Shidae’s and make short trips into the surrounding area until we come up with a better plan.”

His idea was met with silence, but Jooheon could see them mulling it over.

Shownu spoke first, “I agree with Jooheon,” he said slowly. “There’s still most of the day left, so we can explore a bit until it starts getting dark and then come back here to discuss our options. Unless there are any objections, we can try to cover some ground tonight.”

No one said anything, just mutely nodding their agreement and gathering their things. They all set off, following the clearing north and trudging through the dense groundcover of Otherworld flowers.

After a few hours, the boys came into another clearing that opened up onto a ridge. The sun was beginning to sink in the sky and so by wordless agreement, they began shifting their things to settle for a break before turning around and heading back to Shidae’s house. Before any of them could take off their gear, however, an ambient blue light suddenly lit up the clearing and the boys let out a chorus of gasps.

What they saw was inexplicable, a shifting mass of brightly glowing blue that was the exact shade of the Otherworld flowers, simply floating in the sky. Suspended above the ridge’s drop off, the object pressed its light on the boys, casting gentle shadows onto the clearing behind them. They slowly walked towards it, careful of the ridge, and could only gape in wonder. Jooheon couldn’t take his eyes off of…whatever it was, and as he slowed to a halt he felt the other boys around him, the energy flowing between them crackling in the air. He didn’t know how this fit into their wildly changing lives, but he knew that this was only the beginning of a journey they couldn’t yet understand.

Feeling the currents of energy sparking through the clearing and trying to grasp what he was seeing, Jooheon took comfort in the knowledge that whatever came their way, they would have their bonds as a family and as a clan, and would fight to protect them and each other. Whatever mess they were stumbling into and whatever crazy plan they would need to get through it, he was in. They were all in.

 

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To be continued...

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!  
> I had a lot of fun writing this fan theory, made possible by the lovely masonjar88 and inspired by the confusion that is The Clan pt.1: Lost. (We love you, Monsta X. Even if we really, REALLY don't understand you.)  
> I've already started work on a sequel to follow along with the MV for Fighter as the next installment of The Clan, and I'm looking forward to seeing where the boys take us next.  
> Thanks again, and stay tuned! <3


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